The Wolf and the Warriors
by Pantherfang
Summary: In a desperate time of starvation, the Clans receive a message of salvation from StarClan...take the imprisoned wolf Matilda from the Tribe of Rushing Water and sacrifice it. But as they do so, ambitions from within the Clans threaten to destroy them...
1. Prologue: Dark of the Moon

The night where it all began was a bright one.

The world was kissed in silver as the full moon hung solidly over the distant mountains. Its soft light gleamed off the crests of waves lapping on the island's shore and glittered through the fur of the gathered warrior cats.  
>The cats were starved and desperate. Despite the warm breeze blowing through the trees that promised plentiful hunting , there was no prey. No birds sang in the trees. No mice crept through the leaf-litter. No rabbits leaped across the moors. No fish swam through the streams.<br>The Clans looked doomed. If something didn't happen soon, they would all starve.  
>Blackstar, the ShadowClan leader, prowled back and forth. "How can this happen?" he snarled at the sky. "How can StarClan fail us like this? This is newleaf! It is supposed to be the season of bounty!" Flecks of foam flicked across his jaws, displaying a once-proud Clan leader on the brink of madness.<br>"Blackstar," murmured Firestar, the leader of ThunderClan. "Calm yourself. You are frightening the apprentices."  
>The small cats that huddled in the centre of the Gathering did not appear to have even heard the tom. Their fur was ragged and tangled, their ribs plain for all to see. Brambleclaw, deputy of ThunderClan, sighed and dug his claws into the soft earth. Nothing they had done worked. They had given the weaker members of the Clan all the prey, just as the warrior code dictated. It hadn't stopped Ferncloud and Daisy's kits from dying, their fluttering heartbeats growing softer and softer until their tiny bodies could not sustain their fragile lives. Jayfeather, the medicine cat, had stuffed the elders with dwindling supplies of herbs, but it hadn't stopped Mousefur and Purdy from wasting away until one morning they simply did not wake up.<br>At first, it had been elders and kits who faded to StarClan. Now, apprentices and warriors were taking their places. Hazeltail had died just two suns ago. And the unthinkable had been brought up. By Berrynose, of course. Hazeltail would want them to, he had argued, would want her body to be a source of strength for the Clan. By doing it, it would mean that less cats would die, and they would last long enough for their fortunes to turn. Firestar had automatically refused, but if the prey didn't return to the territories soon…Brambleclaw shuddered.  
>He knew his heart too well. When Hazeltail had died, he had been one of the cats who buried her. Along the way her thin skin was punctured by a sharp rock and her blood had wet the earth.<br>A cat he'd known since she was a kit, a cat under his responsibility, was dead, and his mouth had watered at the scent of her blood. He hated himself.

A shrill yowl shattered the mild air. Brambleclaw shook himself and looked up.  
>It was Littlecloud, the ShadowClan medicine cat, and he was pelting towards the island at full speed. His lithe form flashed across the fallen tree-trunk connecting them to the mainland and he leaped to the bottom of the tree trunk. A faint stir ran through the Clan cats. Nobody ran like that anymore unless they really, really had to…<br>"Littlecloud," growled Blackstar, "what in the name of StarClan is the meaning of this?"  
>"But that's just it, Blackstar! A sign from StarClan!"<br>If Littlecloud's mindless dash had intrigued the crowd, the prospect of a message from their warrior ancestors enthralled them. Every pair of hungry eyes was fixed on the tiny medicine cat.  
>Littlecloud shuddered, his emaciated flanks heaving as he tried to regain his breath.<br>"I had fallen asleep," he began, tail twitching, "when I had a dream that I was in a barren wasteland. There was a Gathering of StarClan cats from every Clan. I heard Nightstar, the old leader of ShadowClan, say, 'This is all that's left of the Clan's territories!' And the old ThunderClan leader, Bluestar, shook her head.  
>"Perhaps not," she said, with a glimmer of hope in her eye. "The sacrifice approaches."<br>And then I saw a group of cats-oh, they were so skinny- leading a massive beast, a wolf, I think. They were both Tribe and Clan cats. The leader of those cats turned to face the wolf and slashed its throat open. As it fell to the ground, its blood soaked the earth and grass began to sprout. Soon the territories were back to normal, and there was so much prey! Then Nightstar turned to me and said, "Littlecloud, the Tribe of Rushing Water has caught a wolf. It must be brought to the Island and sacrificed to StarClan. Only then will the prey begin to run once more." And then I woke up."

The tom gasped for air, after his lengthy tale.  
>"A <em>wolf<em>!" Mistystar of RiverClan gasped.  
>"Well then, what are we waiting for?" growled Onestar of WindClan, and turned to face his cats.<br>"Stop!" said Firestar. "Who is to go? It can't be all of us."  
>"It might need to be," replied Mistystar. "A wolf is a dangerous beast. For those who don't know what one is, picture an animal that's like a dog but twice the size, and with all the cunning of a cat."<br>"Some must stay behind and care for the cats that can't make the journey," replied Firestar with composure.  
>"Isn't that what medicine cats are for?" hissed a ShadowClan warrior, quietly.<br>Jayfeather jumped to his paws. "You'll need medicine cats most of all on this journey," he snapped. "We can use poppy seeds to keep the beast drugged and docile. Without us-"  
>"Thank you, Jayfeather." interrupted Firestar. "You've made your point. A medicine cat will be one of the cats travelling to the mountains."<br>"If you like," said Willowshine, the grey RiverClan medicine cat apprentice, "I'll go. That way, every Clan still has a medicine cat."  
>"Done. Willowshine is going." Mistystar looked pleased. Brambleclaw held back a snort. <em>As if what Clan the medicine cat comes from makes a difference! Everyone knows they stand outside of Clan borders.<br>_"But what about the warriors?" pressed Blackstar.  
>Onestar coughed. "It's my opinion that the cats who are going should probably be our strongest warriors. They're the only ones who will be capable of making such a long journey."<br>"Which rules your Clan out then, doesn't it?" Lionblaze, a ThunderClan warrior and Brambleclaw's own foster son, growled under his breath, fortunately not loud enough for any WindClan warriors to hear. Brambleclaw glared at him. The accusation was neither fair nor true. It was also hypocritical, since Lionblaze was half-WindClan himself.

Firestar's gaze swept his cats. "Squirrelflight, Lionblaze, Thornclaw and Spiderleg will be ThunderClan's contribution."  
>"No <em>special<em> apprentices this time, Firestar?" drawled Blackstar. Dovewing dropped her head in embarrassment.  
>"There will be no apprentices." said Mistystar coldly. "Excluding Willowshine, of course. Robinwing, Beetlewhisker, Petalfur, and Reedwhisker will be RiverClan's." Reedwhisker, the RiverClan deputy, looked startled.<br>"That seems hardly fair," Brambleclaw found himself protesting. "You can't send your deputy." Mistystar glanced at him, and seemed almost half-ashamed. "He is one of my strongest warriors," was all she murmured.  
>Onestar sighed. "Crowfeather, Heathertail, Owlwhisker and Harespring." Brambleclaw noticed that toms were making up a large proportion of the party.<br>Blackstar looked annoyed at the prospect of giving up four of his best warriors. "Tigerheart, Smokefoot, Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw." He too had named his deputy. Mistystar scowled.  
>"Done then!" Firestar sounded-for the first time since leaf-fall-cheerful. Hopeful. "You sixteen-seventeen, sorry, Willowshine-will go to the Tribe of Rushing Water and ask for their…prisoner. You will bring it back here and all will be well. I don't think I have to explain to you how vital your task is. Tawnypelt and Squirrelflight will lead the way, as they have travelled there before, but Rowanclaw and Reedwhisker are in charge."<br>"We're leaving now?" asked Squirrelflight, surprised.  
>"Unless you have a reason for staying?"<br>"No." The ginger she-cat shook her head. "Right! Let's roll!"  
>"This Gathering is dismissed." Blackstar called, leaping down from the tree.<br>As Brambleclaw waited for ThunderClan to pass, he heard Jayfeather mutter, "And it'll be as easy as that, will it?"


	2. Chapter 1: The Death of Innocence

**Hello! This is my first fanfiction, and reviews are very welcome! :)**

Saffron's blue eyes glittered in the darkness as he watched the three cats prowl ahead of him. The full moon had sunk into a waning three-quarter, and it was clear to him that these cats were not exactly comfortable in the night. They stumbled and tripped over obvious obstacles, though they were clearly attempting to keep silent as they passed through the trees. It wasn't working. A kit could have followed their clumsy steps.  
>Their three targets were aiming for a small clearing where the floor was thick with moss and a leaf-choked stream trickled through the soft earth. At any other time Saffron would have thought how pretty it was. Now he only saw the tactical advantages. A stream to dispose of his work and hide his pawprints. Plenty of bushes and shrubs on the outside to hide in. Tall trees-as a last resort, of course.<br>Saffron did not expect to fail. He'd done this so many times already. But still, he flinched as one of the cats they were tracking swung around in an attempt to see if they were being followed. Saffron did not even bother to crouch. With his golden fur turned silver, he looked just like another pool of moonlight in the open space. He closed his eyes to prevent them from seeing the reflected sparkle, and waited until they turned to each other.

"If they could be any louder…" breathed a voice into his ear. Saffron choked on a yelp. "Hollyleaf, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?"  
>His mate was even better hidden in the shadows, her black pelt completely invisible. A pair of amused green eyes was all he saw of her.<br>Hollyleaf shrugged. "Sorry, dear. Didn't mean to scare you."  
>Saffron sighed and decided to let it go. No matter how hard he had practised, he could never match Hollyleaf's skill in hunting and stalking. When he'd asked her how she learned, she'd shuttered herself (as she always did when he asked about her past) and muttered that, where she had come from, these movements were as easy as breathing.<br>Saffron tried to return his attention to the task at paw, but her warm breath was tickling his ear-fur and he found it distracting. Finally he shifted a few paces away from her. "Okay. You go for the tabby tom, and I'll get the brown one. Then whoever finishes first can take that little grey she-cat. Got it?"  
>He saw her eyes bob up and down in a nod. He probably hadn't even needed to say it, but he sometimes liked to pretend he was the one in charge around here.<p>

They had been assigned this task by a cat whose name he didn't know and probably never would. She was the leader of a group of rogues who had bunched up for protection. The cats that they were tracking now were members who had been plotting against her and planning on taking control.  
>So they needed to be eliminated.<br>In return, they would spend a few nights in a warm den and with plenty of fresh-kill. That was the way he and Hollyleaf worked. They were mercenaries, and their tasks could range from carrying kits when a camp was moved to helping a mated pair catch prey. Or it could be something like this. In fact, it was usually something like this. Most of the cats they helped were not exactly fine models of decency. But only once had a cat tried to trick them. He had regretted it dearly.  
>"Saffron!" Hollyleaf hissed, sounding annoyed. "Stop woolgathering and get to it! The cats are starting to move." She was wondering why they hadn't attacked earlier. Their targets had discussed some sort of plans in low voices and were now heading back to their camp.<br>"Okay. Three…two…go!"

His huge legs pushed upwards as he sprang onto the back of the brown tom. The rogue staggered, caught completely unaware by the sudden violence, and Saffron bit down into his neck, severing the veins and arteries that carried his lifeblood. The cat made a feeble swipe at him before hitting the ground.  
><em>It's that easy to kill someone. Almost easier than hunting prey.<br>_Next to him, Hollyleaf had tried a different tactic; she did not have the weight to bring down a tom. Instead, she had slunk like a shadow across the forest floor, right under his nose, before reaching up and tearing his throat open. The cat had gurgled for breath before following his brethren into death. Saffron stared at his paws, happy for Hollyleaf to take the little cat. She reared up and crashed down into the rogue, ignoring her terrified squeals. Hollyleaf dug a claw into her prey's chest and another one somewhere in the stomach. The cat collapsed on her back.  
>Saffron pushed his mate away. "It's done, all right? She's dead." It was at times like this when he was almost…afraid of Hollyleaf. He could never be sure what she was really like. Sometimes it bothered her to kill even an evil murderer, muttering something about a 'warrior code'. And then there were these moments, when she seemed to be satisfying some dark primal need of her own when she spilled blood.<br>Hollyleaf shook her head. "She isn't dead. I saw her breathe."  
>"Then let me do it."<br>She shrugged and stepped back, and gestured with a paw. "Hurry up. I'm hungry."

Saffron approached the tiny cat, and noticed that she wasn't really small-she was young. Barely more than a kit. Her fur was still fluffy and soft, and she carried the faintest aroma of moss. Rogues out here generally only used moss for queens and their kits.  
>"Look at her," he said softly. "She's not a threat. We can leave her."<br>Hollyleaf bent her head to sniff the cat, and Saffron was relieved to see a quiver of shame go through her. "She'll die anyway," the black she-cat murmured. "It'll just be more painful if we leave her."  
>Saffron considered this. Finally, he nodded. "That's true."<br>He stood over the victim and lowered his head to see if she really was breathing. Satisfied, he clamped his powerful jaws gently over her muzzle and waited until her gasps for air had faded. When he was certain she was unconscious, he rolled the she-cat on her back and softly pierced her heart with a claw. A painless death. One he would never have.

Hollyleaf flicked her tail at him gently. "Come on. We've got a few days of luxury to look forward to."  
>Saffron sighed. "I know…but why is it always kits that get involved?"<br>"Don't be silly! You saw her. Or at least, I did. She was plotting with the rest of them to get that leader killed. You missed the part where she suggested deathberries in the fresh-kill. She's not exactly innocent, sweetheart."  
>"Maybe the leader deserves to be overthrown," Saffron murmured, but Hollyleaf ignored him, and continued. "Anyway, this is just what we have to do to survive. Nothing more, nothing less. My conscience is clear."<br>Saffron studied her. Was she lying? He could never tell.  
>She met his gaze and tossed her head. "Sometimes, killing is the only way," she said in a soft, melancholy tone. "You can't talk your way out of everything, Saffron. They don't listen…they never do. You can try all you want, and they'll still see you as the enemy…"<br>Saffron touched his nose to hers. "Where did you come from, dear?"  
>Hollyleaf stiffened, but she did not seem to be angry. "A long way from here. With a group of cats that were noble, loyal and wise, and would never accept help from rogues or kill their own denmates. They cared for the kits and the older cats first, and nobody ever killed or plotted against their leaders."<br>"If it's so great, why did you leave?" Saffron was aware he was walking on thin ice, but again Hollyleaf did not appear to mind.  
>"Because of what I knew…I couldn't stay. They would have hated me for what I did, what I said. They probably think I'm dead, anyway. That's what I would have said."<br>"Well," said Saffron, nuzzling her gently, "Whatever the reason, I'm glad of it, otherwise I would never have met you."

Hollyleaf's lips creased in a faint smile. "No, you wouldn't have, would you?" she purred softly. "Come on then, let's get out of here before the crowfood-eaters come."  
>"Like crows?" he said dryly.<br>"Don't be dumb! Crows don't fly at night."  
>"How would you know? They're black, so you wouldn't see!"<br>Hollyleaf laughed and shook her head. "Sometimes, I wonder about you," she said, but still with a trace of a purr. "How would you live without me?"  
>"I'm not planning to, for one thing," he mewed, before twining his tail with hers and leading the way back to the small rogue camp.<br>To take their payment, and move on.


	3. Chapter 2: Wolf Under The Waterfall

**NB: So far, all of my characters have been real (excluding Saffron, of course). Rabbit is not real, but he is very important to the plot, as you shall see.**

Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream, to-be of Stoneteller, looked at his newest charge and swallowed.  
>He had seen wolves before, though ever since the Tribe of Endless Hunting had chosen him as the healer's to-be Rabbit had rarely left the cave. The wolves he had seen were not even close to the she-wolf's size.<br>Stormfur, a cave-guard of the Tribe, had nicknamed the wolf "Matilda" after a kittypet he had met. It was a joke among the Tribe of Rushing Water, since "Matilda" looked quite capable of killing a Twoleg herself.  
>Her head was large and heavy, with a long muzzle filled with razor-sharp gleaming fangs. Her massive shoulders were so wide she could barely fit in the den they had assigned her. Matilda's eyes were as golden as the sun, and her fur was silver like the moon.<br>Despite his fear of her, Rabbit was enthralled by her magnificence. Surely no cat could hope to match her; certainly not the Tribe cats, who smeared their fur with mud and dust.

How the cave-guards had caught the she-wolf was a story that was quickly becoming legend. Rabbit wasn't sure how much of the tale was truth and how much was exaggeration.  
>The most likely of the stories said that a border patrol consisting of the cave-guards had set off to check the boundaries with the adjoining territory belonging to the rogues. On the way, they had stumbled upon Matilda fighting another wolf in a bloody battle. The fight had raged on for several minutes before Matilda had crushed his neck in her mighty jaws.<br>Despite her victory, the other wolf had injured her and she had slumped to the ground. The moment she did so, the cave-guards raced back to the Cave of Rushing Water. Rabbit had been there himself, and had watched in fascination as Stoneteller gave the cave-guards some herbs he said would make the she-wolf sluggish and obedient. Rabbit had never seen the herbs before, and Stoneteller had hidden them, telling his to-be that he would not be taught how to find them until he was almost old enough to take Stoneteller's position.  
>The guards had crushed the herbs into a paste and then crept up on the unconscious beast before smearing the matter into her bloody wounds. Then they had waited patiently for her to rise. Matilda had staggered after them into the cave, seeming disorientated and bewildered. That was the power of Stoneteller's mysterious herbs. They caused a beast to forget everything he or she ever knew and destroyed their will.<p>

"But," said Stoneteller, teaching Rabbit how to grind the herbs and place it on Matilda's tongue, where it would dissolve into her bloodstream, "they are not permanent. If she goes without the herbs for too long, she will remember everything. And no cat could ever stand against a wolf and hope to live."  
>The Tribe had caught wolves before. Rarely, but it had happened. What generally occurred after such a prize had been attained was that Stoneteller, the leader of the cave-guards and the leader of the prey-hunters would take the wolf into the Cave of Pointed Stones. No-one else was allowed to enter the Cave, and even in the Cave of Rushing Water, no cat was to make a noise.<br>Stoneteller would speak to the Tribe of Endless Hunting, and thank their ancestors for bringing them the bounty. The cave-guard leader would kill the wolf, quickly and cleanly. Then the leader of the prey-hunters would cut out the beast's heart and eat it.  
>The Tribe would then feast on the wolf's carcass. Wolf-meat was said to have powerful properties, giving strength and courage and fought disease. Rabbit doubted the truth behind this, too, but held his tongue.<p>

But this time, the Tribe had not killed the wolf.  
>On the night that Matilda had been brought to the cave, Stoneteller had fallen into a trance. It had lasted for hours before their leader had stirred and announced that the wolf's wounds were to be treated and it would be cared for. The Tribe of Endless Hunting had whispered in his ears. Before the next full moon, a group of cats from the distant Clans would arrive. They needed the wolf to appease their own ancestors and bring the prey back to their lands. He had foreseen that members of the Tribe would need to go with the Clan cats, to ensure that the wolf remained docile.<br>He had then pulled Rabbit aside and informed him in his dry tone that Rabbit, above all cats, must be part of the group that would take the wolf back.  
>"Why me?" demanded Rabbit. But Stoneteller had only shook his head, and shown him how to tell if the wolf needed herbs or not.<p>

Rabbit jolted out of his melancholy remembrance and reminded himself firmly that he had a task to do at this very moment. He gave a quick prayer to the Tribe of Endless Hunting and padded up to the wolf.  
>"Matilda," he croaked, and the wolf raised her head, meeting his gaze with her golden stare.<br>_Calm down. She's just a dumb animal._  
>He cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Come here, and show me your gums."<br>For a moment that seemed to be the longest in the world, Matilda did nothing. Then, she let out a groan, staggered over to him and pulled back her lips. Her rank breath blew into his face and Rabbit wrinkled his nose. Pushing the beast's massive head to the side, he checked the colour of her gums.  
>One of the side-effects of the mind-control herbs was that it bleached the blood a strange, rich purple colour. If the purple colour was fading, it meant that more herbs needed to be applied.<br>Matilda's gums were the colour of ripe plums. _Thank the ancestors, _Rabbit thought, and ran as quickly from her den as his paws would take him. He resolved to wash himself thoroughly to get the stench of the wolf out of his fur.

An imperious cry disrupted the relative peace of the Tribe.  
>Rabbit's sensitive nose picked up a new scent; one that stank of sickness and hunger. His pelt pricking, he pushed his way through the gathering crowd of cats and nearly ran into a massive golden tabby tom. Even though his ribs were jutting out, he was nearly twice Rabbit's size.<br>The tom swatted at Rabbit impatiently. "Where is Stoneteller? We need to speak to him, immediately."  
>Before Rabbit could answer, a joyous mew burst out of the ranks. "Lionblaze! Tawnypelt! Squirrelflight!"<br>Stormfur leaped to meet the cats, his mate Brook at his paws, and purrs began rippling through the newcomers.  
>"Stormfur, it's good to see you," mewed a tortoiseshell she-cat, stretching over to touch noses with him.<br>_Tawnypelt, Squirrelflight…where have I heard those names?  
><em>It struck him like a thunderbolt. These were two of the cats that had helped kill Sharptooth the mountain lion! And this golden tom, Lionblaze, must be the same Lionpaw that had helped to drive back the rogues on their borders.  
>Stoneteller's heavy pawsteps sounded on the rock. "I know why you have come," he mewed calmly. "Rabbit, is the prisoner ready?"<br>"Yes, Stoneteller," whispered Rabbit. "I'll…go get her now."  
>A small grey she-cat slipped out of the Clan cats. "What herbs have you been using to keep the beast under control?" she mewed without preamble.<br>Stoneteller's eyes gleamed. "You must be the healer."  
>"Yes, I'm Willowshine, RiverClan's medicine cat apprentice."<br>Rabbit didn't hear anymore of the conversation, because he had slipped away into Matilda's den.  
>"Get up and follow me," he ordered, and the wolf obeyed.<br>Silence fell over the cave as the mighty creature paced after him towards the Clan cats. Rabbit noticed the momentary gleam in Lionblaze's eye. What was he thinking? Was he admiring the beast's size and strength, as Rabbit did? Or was he only seeing the creature as a thing to slay, a pelt to add to his den?

The ginger she-cat, Squirrelflight, was the first to recover. "She's…big," she said, awkwardly.  
>"She's harmless," replied Stoneteller, "provided you keep her drugged with the herbs. Which is why I'm sending my to-be, Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream."<br>"Hang on a minute." A handsome black tom, who had up until that moment been gazing into the mountain waterfall, looked up. "We don't mind your cave-guards, but we can't look out for apprentices."  
>Stoneteller shook his head. "You will need him. The beast is familiar with his presence and he will carry the herbs and show you how to apply them." Rabbit looked up at Stoneteller, wondering why he didn't just tell the Clan cats that he'd had a dream. These cats had come this far on the word of their own ancestors-they would know how unpredictable these dreams could be.<br>The black tom shrugged. "Okay, but we're not in charge of caring for him."  
><em>I am standing right here, you know!<br>_Stoneteller flicked his tail. "You should go. I wish I could offer you shelter, but my Tribe is eager to see the wolf leave the cave. Her smell frightens the kits."  
>The black tom nodded. "We weren't planning on staying anyway. Come along then, Rabbit."<br>Rabbit followed the Clan cats out. He did not look back once on the Cave of Rushing Water. Both his parents were dead and future Stonetellers were advised against making friends. There was nothing for him in the cave.  
>"Lionblaze, Harespring, Smokefoot and Beetlewhisker," ordered a scarred ginger tom with an air of command. "You will guard the brute. Never take your eyes off it." He glared at Rabbit. "What did you just say?"<br>Rabbit gulped. "Um…we call her Matilda, sir," he mewed nervously.  
>"Matilda. Whatever."<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: River Queen

**NB: Mistyfoot had four kits. The Erins admitted they forgot about them but made clear in later books that Reedwhisker was one. Kate Carey also suggests that Rippletail and Graymist were also two of her kits. The last one has never been identified and there are no warriors that are old enough to fit into the timeline. So I made her up. I have no idea how old Pebblefoot really is. I gather that he's actually quite young, but there are no old warriors in RiverClan. The last thing is that I'm basing Mistystar's personality on everything that I've read. One of the problems with Warriors, in my opinion, is that cats from other Clans are given no personality except for 'aggressive' 'hostile' and 'loyal'.**

Mistystar, daughter of a forbidden love between two mighty warriors of RiverClan and ThunderClan, shook her head to clear her thoughts of the troubling doubts that nagged at her.  
>Every leader had doubts. If Leopardstar, the previous leader, had taught her anything, it was that a cat who never thought twice about things would lead her Clan into destruction. Mistystar had been there. She'd watched in silent horror as the tyrannical Tigerstar had taken over RiverClan and attempted to purge them of half-Clan cats-meaning herself.<br>Her brother Stonefur walked now in StarClan, the result of an overconfident leader. But Leopardstar had lived to redeem her mistake and made RiverClan as strong as any Clan. Towards the end of her nine lives madness had reclaimed her once more, but Mistystar chose to remember her as the stalwart, brave she-cat who remained loyal to her Clan to the bitter end.  
>She remembered Leopardstar's form of leadership perfectly. Leopardstar acted detached from the problems of every cat around her. Deep inside, she winced for every thorn in the pad of a warrior, licked the ears of troubled apprentices, and broke her heart over sickly kits. But she never showed it on the outside; it was what gave the Clan faith in her, and trust that her decisions were crisp and sensible.<p>

It was Leopardstar's cold façade Mistystar wore on her face now as she summoned her eldest warrior and close friend Pebblefoot, twitching her tail slightly in a pretence of impatience.  
>Pebblefoot limped towards her, a long scar that curved up his front paw hampering his natural stride. "Mistystar?" he mewed in a tone that irritated her. Clan leaders were not meant to be spoken to as friends. They were to be treated with respect and dignity. She sat down and curled her tail around her paws, feeling miserable about what she was about to do, but seeing no other option.<br>"Pebblefoot," she mewed calmly, "you're getting old."  
>Something in his posture shifted as he understood that this was not an idle conversation. Mistystar was gratified to see that he remained standing.<br>"I…I suppose," the mottled grey tom mewed uneasily.  
>"You suppose? No, Pebblefoot, you are old. In fact, you're older than me. Considerably." She put emphasis on the last word. "I think it's time we started discussing your retirement."<p>

Pebblefoot seemed to crumble before her. He was an average-sized tomcat, larger than she was, but he seemed smaller than an apprentice when he spoke again.  
>"You would do that to me, Mistystar?"<br>Again, that tone! Mistystar twitched her tail. "Yes, I would," she said in a brittle tone. "Since you won't. You lag behind the others in everything you do. You catch less fish than the apprentices-"  
>"With all due respect, Mistystar, there is no prey-"<br>"Do not interrupt me! You are a poor hunter, a liability in a fight, and an embarrassment at Gatherings. I'm sorry, Pebblefoot, but I don't have a choice. I can keep you hidden during good moons, but not at a time like this when even my strongest warriors are going lame."  
>Throughout her speech Pebblefoot had flinched as though each word was a physical blow. Mistystar felt unbearably guilty. She softened her tone.<br>"You've been a good friend to me, Pebblefoot. I don't think I would be where I am right now if you hadn't believed in me. Leopardstar, may her soul have fair hunting, always trusted you and valued your advice. You have been as loyal as any RiverClan warrior and better than most. In another time, you would have, perhaps, been a fine leader in your own right."  
>Pebblefoot's head snapped up. "Mistystar…I am but a simple warrior, as you say. Please, I don't…understand. Do you want me to retire…?"<p>

Mistystar held up a paw to silence him. "What do you think of my kits, Pebblefoot?"  
>The old tom looked bewildered. "They are fine warriors, of course."<br>Mistystar shook her head. "Answer me truthfully. I want your advice."  
>Pebblefoot shrugged his shoulders. "Reedwhisker is an excellent fisher and fighter and is more or less the perfect deputy. Graymist has mothered strong, healthy kits. Rippletail…" and here he stopped, for what was there to say about Rippletail? What needed to be said about the brave tabby that had not already been spoken? Rippletail had died to save RiverClan and was undoubtedly in the highest halls of StarClan.<p>

Mistystar shook off her grief and rescued her floundering warrior. "And Waterfall?"  
>Pebblefoot actually gulped. "She…she has the makings…"<br>"Sure she does." mewed Mistystar with a trace of irony in her mew. "She had the _makings_ seasons ago when she was an apprentice. I have yet to see anything from her apart from a foul temper and clumsy paws. Never let it be said that a RiverClan cat is ugly, but StarClan knows, she comes close."  
>Pebblefoot's eyes were as wide as the stones that gave him his name. "That's a little harsh, Mistystar."<br>Mistystar sighed. "Perhaps. But she has not proven anything to me yet."  
>Pebblefoot looked confused. "What do you want from me?"<br>The grey she-cat looked him carefully in the eyes. "I agree with you. Waterfall has talent, but she has not had the discipline required to harness it. Leopardstar gave her to a soft-hearted fool who treated her like she was deputy herself. She needs to learn how to be a proper RiverClan cat. She needs a mentor."  
>"Mistystar-no, you can't make her an apprentice again. She won't stand for it-"<br>"I am aware of that, Pebblefoot. So here is my judgement. I will give my daughter an apprentice. Let the Clan mutter that I am favouring my kin; she is the oldest warrior who has yet to have one. And you, you will be there, to give her your wisdom and advice, to help her shape her apprentice. And, perhaps, Waterfall herself."

Pebblefoot was sitting bolt upright. "You can count on me, Mistystar! I'll make them both warriors to be proud of."  
>Mistystar smiled. "I know you will. Once Waterfall and her apprentice are both behaving properly, you will retire. By then, I think, you would probably wish for it!"<br>Pebblefoot could not hide his joy. "Thank you, thank you…" He sank to her paws.  
>"Oh, get up!" Mistystar felt her ears warm. "Go and take a look at one of Mosspelt's kits, they'll be ready in a quarter-moon. Tell me which one is most suited for Waterfall. And start making friends with my daughter. She won't turn to a cat she doesn't trust."<br>The old tom nodded eagerly and practically bounced away. Mistystar sighed and shook her head. _Another day, another crisis,_ she thought to herself. The leader was pleased, though. Throughout her conversation with her friend she had not betrayed once the flame of pride that burned in her.  
>For all her kits.<p>

The sound of an approaching patrol rattled the reeds by the stream, and Mistystar turned to receive the hunting patrol she'd sent out. She wasn't expecting them to be carrying anything, but she'd never been so happy to be wrong in her life.  
>Every cat was carrying fish. Small fish, skinny, barely more than a few mouthfuls. But food!<br>"Thank StarClan!" cried Mistystar, bouncing over. "Reedwhisker's patrol must have found the wolf!"


	5. Chapter 4: The Immortality of Memory

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey meet under the Highledge for a Clan meeting!"  
>Firestar's mew rang strongly throughout the stone hollow that made ThunderClan's camp, but it was shaking slightly, and there was a clear note of horror in it.<br>Brambleclaw, crouched by the fresh-kill pile and dividing up the rations, lifted his head. What had happened? He had seen Firestar stand his ground in the most violent battles and stay strong while sickness ravaged the Clan. Throughout this time of starvation, the ginger tom had held his head high. To unsettle him in such a way must be terrible indeed.  
>Brambleclaw glanced at the gathering cats, then closed his eyes. He lifted his head to the morning sky, then touched his nose to the ground. In the old days cats had said this prayer at every dawn, but over the seasons things had become less formal.<br>_StarClan, keep your claws at bay.  
>Let no friend of mine fall today.<br>Keep your warriors in their dens, and shun the kits from your light,  
>Take the sickness from our breaths and leave shadows to the night.<br>Protect us from the frozen winds that steal the warmth in our fur,  
>And guard us against the bloody glory that others might call war.<em>

__His prayer done, Brambleclaw padded to join his Clanmates and settled at the base on the Highledge, as his position of deputy required.  
>His gaze fell upon the mound of fur that lay before him, and knew that his prayer had come too late.<br>The brown tabby tom saw at once what had caused Firestar to falter. He had seen worse wounds during the battle of BloodClan, who reinforced their claws, but only then._  
><em>The cat's fur was so clogged with blood that Brambleclaw couldn't make out the colour, and the scent was almost impossible to detect. He stepped forwards to take a closer sniff and shivered, drawing back to his original spot.  
><em>Sorreltail. Oh, StarClan…<br>_Many of the other cats also approached to identify the body, and yowls of terror and dismay rippled through the Clan.  
>"Why, Firestar?" wailed Poppyfrost, one of Sorreltail's kits. "Why her? What did she do?"<br>Firestar merely bowed his head in sadness.  
>Sandstorm, Sorreltail's mentor, was crouched by her apprentice's body, smoothing over a lump of fur behind her ears. At Poppyfrost's mew she raised her head and rasped, "Where are Cinderheart and Brackenfur?" She named Sorreltail's other kit, and mate.<br>Brambleclaw shifted slightly. "I sent them out hunting with Dustpelt. They won't be back for a while."  
>"Perhaps that's for the best," mewed Firestar softly. "They don't need to see her like this."<p>

Jayfeather looked Firestar directly in the eyes with his sightless gaze. "Where was she found?"  
>"The dawn patrol found her on the lake shore."<br>Jayfeather nodded and began to trace Sorreltail's wounds gently with his paws. Some cats murmured at this, but Brambleclaw hushed them, saying, "He can't see her, remember."  
>Finally the medicine cat sat up. "Well?" prompted Firestar. "How did she die?"<br>Jayfeather was silent for a while. "It's a little hard to say," he mewed, his voice edged. "These wounds-their shape, their size-it's consistent with a badger attack. But-"  
>He never got to finish. An uproar shattered the grieving silence.<br>"A badger? Do you think my apprentice would be so foolish as to take one on by herself?" Sandstorm spat.  
>"Sorreltail was more than a match for a badger!" hissed another cat.<br>"How do you know, anyway, Jayfeather? You can't see!" growled Berrynose.  
>Jayfeather's tail twitched in frustration. "Shut up!" he snarled. "Shut up and let me finish! I've got more to say."<br>Eventually the Clan's anger dissolved into hostile silence.

"Most of her injuries are consistent with a badger attack," repeated Jayfeather more calmly. "However, the wound that actually killed her is not. It was caused by the teeth of a cat." He paused, as though expecting interruption, but no cat said anything.  
>"My guess is that Sorreltail was fighting a badger. I know that may be hard for some of you to believe, but she could have been taken by surprise, or was forced into a position where she couldn't have run. Anything's possible. She must have eventually driven away the badger, otherwise the dawn patrol would have noticed it. Then came the cat who saw her weakened and finished her off."<br>Brambleclaw closed his eyes. He could see it. Sorreltail, alone and helpless, struggling to find her way back to camp. A shadowy figure, stalking her through the trees, waiting for her back to be turned…but who would do it?  
>"This isn't the first time a ThunderClan warrior has been murdered in such a way, Firestar," Brambleclaw found himself saying. "Ashfur. We all thought Sol killed him. But he hasn't been here. So maybe it was another cat for both murders." He noticed Jayfeather's pelt bristle at Ashfur's name, and wondered why.<br>Firestar looked at him carefully. "Do you think it is a Clan cat, Brambleclaw?"  
>Brambleclaw lifted his chin. "There's nothing else that makes sense, Firestar. Two ThunderClan cats. Killed in an almost identical fashion. If Sol killed Ashfur, after all, then Sorreltail's killer had to have been a cat who knew how he died. That could have only been a ThunderClan warrior."<br>Mousewhisker snarled. "WindClan knew, as well!"  
>"Not how he died."<p>

Birchfall cleared his throat. "There's a thing that troubles me that nobody has addressed. Sorreltail was fighting a badger alone. It doesn't matter how good a warrior is; we teach our apprentices from the first that if they see a badger they run back to camp. And what was a badger doing there in the first place? How did it get in without the patrols picking up its scent? And if what Jayfeather says is true and she was killed by another warrior, how did the patrols miss him, too? We missed two things that should have been obvious. Somewhere along the line, someone screwed up. Badly."  
>Brambleclaw felt his fur turn hot as the eyes of the Clan fell upon him.<br>"If the killer was from ThunderClan, the patrols wouldn't have picked up on him-or her," said Sandstorm dully.  
>Mousewhisker shook his head. "No ThunderClan warrior would do this. It's a coincidence. A rogue passed by, saw Sorreltail injured, and decided to finish her off. Nothing more."<br>A murmur of agreement ran through the assembled camp. Suddenly, Brambleclaw found himself remembering what Whitestorm had told him once.  
><em>Fear makes fools of the best warriors in the forest, Bramblepaw. You know this better than most, your lineage being what it is. When cats are afraid, they do not think; they simply hope that there is someone else to do the thinking for them. Cats will do anything, <em>anything_, to avoid coming to terms with what they fear. Your father fears his past, so he will destroy the Clan who holds it. Tawnypaw fears her Clanmates, so she has fled to his side. Darkstripe fears being alone in an uncaring world, so he will do whatever Tigerstar tells him to do. Fear is a disease, Bramblepaw, and it is as deadly and contagious as greencough. Do not fall prey to its claws.  
><em>Brambleclaw jerked his head up. Firestar was speaking.  
>"…so from now on the patrols will be doubled. All cats out on border patrol yesterday will be questioned, one at a time. If anyone else has helpful information, please see me. This meeting is dismissed." The flame-coloured tom jumped down from the Highledge. "Jayfeather, please prepare Sorreltail for her vigil."<p>

Jayfeather nodded and waited for the cats to disperse before settling by Sorreltail's body. He looked at Brambleclaw. "Do you really think a ThunderClan cat killed Ashfur?"  
><em>Ashfur. Not Sorreltail, but Ashfur. He knows something, and it's something he can't tell anyone. Which means that he must know the killer's identity, or someone who was there at the time. And if he won't give them up, they must be important to him. Ha! There aren't many.<br>_Brambleclaw sat down and curled his tail around his paws.  
>"Hollyleaf killed Ashfur, didn't she?" His voice was soft.<br>Jayfeather gasped. "How-how did you-"  
>"It's simple logic, Jayfeather. Any ThunderClan cat who saw Hollyleaf at that Gathering could draw the same conclusions. Now tell me the truth. Is Hollyleaf dead? Or did you help her escape?"<br>Jayfeather continued to stare at him speechlessly. Brambleclaw sighed. "I know this may be hard for you to grasp, but I really am not quite as stupid as I look."  
>The medicine cat swallowed. "I don't know. If she's dead, I mean. What we told the Clan was half-true. She ran into the tunnels, and they collapsed, but she was running into them because she wanted to leave the Clans. We thought she died in the rockfall. But Lionblaze found her scent in the tunnel, so…now, I don't know."<p>

Brambleclaw tilted his head. Would Jayfeather lie to protect her? Obviously he had already done so, but the grief he had expressed at Hollyleaf's vigil had seemed real.  
>"I'm telling the truth," said Jayfeather quietly, and Brambleclaw once again was startled at his foster-son's perception.<br>Finally he spoke. "You've betrayed your Clan, Jayfeather."  
>Jayfeather bared his fangs. "I'm a medicine cat. I stand beyond loyalty."<br>"Medicine cats are still bound by the code, perhaps more so than warriors," mewed Brambleclaw softly. "Hollyleaf was out of control. If you'd said something earlier, she might have been saved. Ashfur might be alive."  
>"And you would still be with Squirrelflight?" said Jayfeather cruelly.<br>Brambleclaw leaned forwards. "That's neither here nor there. Do you know who killed Sorreltail?"  
>The medicine cat thrashed his tail. "I know how she died. I know where, and I could probably guess when. I don't know who. Someone evil." The grey tabby tom unsheathed his claws. "Ashfur deserved to die, Brambleclaw."<br>"Maybe he did," murmured the deputy. "But Hollyleaf didn't deserve to kill him." 


	6. Chapter 5: Little One

"Now! Minnowtail!" Mistystar growled, every hair on her blue-grey pelt standing on end. "While its back's turned!"  
>The small warrior darted forwards to slice at the badger's hind legs with her sharp claws. The beast bellowed in agony and tried to swing around, but the moment it did so Mallownose snapped his jaws around its head. The badger let out another piercing cry and tossed Mallownose clean into the air. Blood, both fresh and dried, smeared the white patches on its face.<br>The beast was in a bad way. It had already been critically injured when Minnowtail's patrol had come across it, and Mistystar was determined to finish the task-no matter how long it took. She held her tail up in triumph and leaped onto its back, biting into the badger's neck. It was mostly fur and muscle, making it hard for her to penetrate its skin, and it probably hurt her jaws more that it hurt the badger. But it seemed to awaken a reserve of courage in her warriors, and they surged as one, leaping, slashing, kicking, fighting. The badger was almost invisible now, drowning underneath an ocean of cats.  
>Nobody was quite sure what killed the beast in the end. Not blood loss, for the only serious wounds on its body were inflicted long ago. Perhaps infection from those same wounds. Or maybe it had just realised that its tormentors would never release it, and slipped into shadow to end it all.<br>Whatever it was, the beast was dead, and none of her warriors were badly injured. Mistystar allowed herself a moment to savour the victory, then turned to her Clan.  
>"You fought well, all of you," she approved. "Take a chunk of fur from the badger and use it to line your nests. Let it be a story to tell your kits, and theirs."<br>A chorus of approval could be heard in the throat of every cat, and they stepped forwards to pull a mouthful of fur from their enemy's flesh. Minnowtail was the first to reach it, but she stopped and pulled back.

"What is it, Minnowtail?" Mistystar asked, concerned.  
>"There's ThunderClan scent on its claws, Mistystar."<br>Mistystar bent her head. Sure enough, the reek of ThunderClan saturated the badger's talons. "Female. Probably a queen at one point," she declared to the silent Clan. "Badly injured."  
>"ThunderClan probably drove out the badger from their territory," mewed Mallownose seriously.<br>"A long way for a badger to walk!" churred Minnowtail in amusement.  
>Mistystar sniffed again. "I don't detect WindClan scent. None at all. Not even their scent markers."<br>"Could have come by the lakeshore," suggested a warrior.  
>"Are you serious? Badgers hate water," said another.<br>Mistystar stiffened. She could hear the sounds of pawprints. "Hush," she growled, and turned her head towards the soft noise.  
>Pebblefoot was the first to arrive, and he sat down, with guilt marked on his face.<br>"We?" the leader said sharply.

A small she-cat, with the precise shade of fur as Mistystar, stepped into the clearing. There was a sense of arrogance and pride drifting off her pelt like scent. From the way she walked, you might be excused from thinking that she was a StarClan warrior. She took one glance at the dead badger and wrinkled her nose in disgust.  
>"Hello, Waterfall," Mistystar said calmly.<br>Waterfall shot her a look of contempt. "Why did you kill it?" she mewed coldly.  
>"Because it's a badger, Waterfall, and that's what we do with them."<br>Her daughter shook her head. "No, we drive them away. Look at it! It wasn't a threat to anyone provided they didn't provoke it."  
>Mistystar twitched her tail in irritation. "Try telling ThunderClan this brute was harmless. It's savaged one of their warriors."<br>"No, it hasn't," she snapped immediately. "We would have heard at the Gathering."  
><em>Why do you always insist on having the last word?<em>  
>The RiverClan warriors were all slowly edging away, not wanting to become a part of the developing domestic dispute. Mistystar slowly counted to ten and forced her bristling hackles to lie flat.<br>"Clearly, it occurred after the Gathering, because the scent on its claws is reasonably fresh," she mewed in as mild a tone as she could have wished. Turning back to the wide-eyed warriors, she said coldly, "Take your fur and get back to camp so Mothwing can check you for injuries. And stop looking at me like I've grown another head!"  
>The warriors scattered in dismay, many not even stopping to take a piece of pelt. Pebblefoot remained, though he drew away to the cover of the trees. The leader sighed and met Waterfall's gaze. "Must you air your heretical opinions in public?"<br>"You didn't need to torture it. It was going to die anyway."  
>"And how would you know-" She stopped. Now, she didn't even try to force down her hackles.<br>"You were waiting in the trees, weren't you? With Pebblefoot." She shot a dark glare at the warrior, who hung his head low.  
>"So what?"<p>

"So it never occurred to you that we might need some help?"  
>"Who am I to spoil your fun, Mother?"<br>"_Fun?_" Mistystar took a step forwards. "Listen to me, Waterfall. Do you know how many cats have died because of badgers? How many cats have been lamed or crippled? Badgers are threats. If this one wasn't , it would have had kits who will."  
>"And I think that half of those deaths could have been avoided if the warriors fighting them had left them be."<br>"Do you say the same for beavers?" mewed the leader bitterly. "Or Twolegs?"  
>Waterfall blinked. "It's common sense."<br>_Now that's over the line. _"You shame your warrior ancestors, Waterfall, and your brother. Get out of my sight. Go play with the foxes and the hawks if you think they're harmless."  
>"Yes, Mother," mewed Waterfall sweetly, and vanished into the trees.<br>Mistystar cast her fiery blue eyes on Pebblefoot.

"I'm sorry, Mistystar, but what could I do? I can't force her to fight if she doesn't want to." The old tom looked suddenly weary. "She's entitled to her own opinions, you know."  
>"She's entitled to them. I just wish she didn't say them in front of the whole Clan. She'll get into trouble that way." She sighed. "Was I too harsh?"<br>Pebblefoot shifted slightly. "Perhaps a little?"  
>"Then I'll apologize later." The RiverClan leader blinked. "If she comes back."<br>"Where else would she go?"  
>"Who knows? But…something's not right about her, Pebblefoot. Defending a badger-great StarClan! Is she out of her mind?"<br>"ThunderClan cats don't hunt owls."  
>"That's because the owls lead them to good hunting grounds. Not because they're <em>harmless.<em>" Mistystar shook her head. "Maybe I should talk to Mothwing about her."  
>"You do whatever you feel is necessary, Mistystar," mewed Pebblefoot politely.<br>The she-cat glared at him as though seeking for sarcasm, then shrugged. "Take Mallownose and head over to ThunderClan territory. They should know, how well we cleared up their mess."  
>"Mistystar?"<br>"Do you have difficulty with those instructions?"  
>"No. But how did the badger cross the borders without a patrol picking up its scent?"<br>"I don't know, Pebblefoot. Cats make mistakes. Maybe today was one of them."


	7. Chapter 6: Nightfall

Willowshine jerked awake.  
>A few moments ago, her head had been filled with StarClan warriors, urging her on with soft voices, praising the warriors' strength and courage.<br>Now she could see barren plains filled with empty grasslands, starving, flea-bitten cats, and a massive beast that stumbled mindlessly next to a tiny tom who did not appear to be paying attention to anything else.  
>The grey she-cat looked around. The landscape was utterly unfamiliar-or was that an illusion brought on by the shadows of sunset?<br>A yowl sliced through her ears, and Willowshine let out a hiss in annoyance. Rowanclaw turned to his warriors.  
>"We might as well spend the night here," he mewed supremely. At once, the cats sank to the earth beneath them, letting out meows of relief. Only the two deputies, Squirrelflight, Tawnypelt, and Lionblaze remained standing. Willowshine padded over to hear their discussion.<p>

"…I'm sorry," apologized Squirrelflight. "I've never seen this place before."  
>"Great StarClan! Are you saying we're lost?" demanded Willowshine.<br>Tawnypelt shifted slightly. "Not _quite_," she said dryly. "We can walk back the way we came until we hit the mountains again, and try to find the real route."  
>Lionblaze growled. "I don't see where we went wrong. We hit the cowplace yesterday, and we should be on the right path. But there should be a forest here."<br>Squirrelflight blinked. "You've got a good memory, Lionblaze," she mewed. The golden tabby ignored her, and she looked wounded.  
>"Did the Twolegs cut down the forest, maybe?" mewed Reedwhisker.<br>Rowanclaw snorted. "They couldn't have done it in a few suns, mousebrain."  
>Willowshine snorted. "Well, this is productive." She padded back to the cats, keeping her distance from the wolf. It was lying down now, but its eyes were still wide open.<p>

"You-what's your name again?" she asked the little Tribe-cat who cared for the wolf.  
>"Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream."<br>"That's right. Well, do you know where we are right now?"  
>Rabbit blinked. "No. But if we don't reach your territories soon, I'll run out of herbs. I've only got enough for a few more suns. Not enough to backtrack." He shivered. "If that happens, you'll have to kill her yourselves." He nodded to the wolf.<br>"We'll get there in time," answered Willowshine firmly. Rabbit nodded. "If you say so."  
>Willowshine looked up. Reedwhisker was beckoning her with his tail, and she padded over. "What's wrong now?<br>"Spiderleg's picked up some fresh cat scent. Not us."  
>Squirrelflight looked anxious. "We didn't enter another cat's territory by mistake, did we? I was too busy sniffing for prey to check."<br>"Who cares? There's thirteen of us-fourteen if you count the runt. I think we can handle things, don't you?" growled Rowenclaw.  
>"Definitely." Lionblaze nodded. "So why don't we greet them? Maybe they can steer us in the right direction."<p>

A new voice joined theirs, one with a strange accent.  
>"Well, there's a few things wrong with that little chat. Number one-what are you going to do for us? Number two-there may be fourteen of you, but only the <em>runt <em>looks like it's been fed properly. Number three-am I dreaming or are you aware of the fact that a giant wolf's here?"  
>Willowshine flattened her ears and leaped back.<em> Where on earth did you come from?<br>_Lionblaze was clearly thinking similar thoughts. "Who in StarClan's green meadows are you, and how did you get so close?"  
>The cat laughed. Recovered somewhat from her shock, Willowshine noticed he was a handsome golden tom with brilliant blue eyes. Next to him was a she-cat, with a pure black coat and sharp green eyes that looked as though they could skewer you. Willowshine frowned. The tom was utterly unfamiliar to her, but she thought she'd met the black cat before.<br>_Of course-she looks a bit like Hollyleaf._

"I'm Saffron," mewed the tom, and he gestured to the she-cat. "This is my mate, Leaf."  
>"Leaf?" murmured Willowshine, looking at the black she-cat.<br>"Something wrong?" said Leaf haughtily.  
>"No, it's just that…you look like a cat I knew."<br>Leaf snorted. "I'll bet I do," she said ironically. Before Willowshine could question her meaning, she turned to Lionblaze. "As to why we're here? Safety."  
>Reedwhisker's eyes widened. "And what makes you think you'd find safety in a wolf's midst?" he grunted.<br>Saffron's bright eyes sparkled. "An owl never hunts in his own nest. And in return-we'll not only tell you where you are, we'll also tell you something _really_ useful."  
>"Which would be…?" drawled Tawnypelt.<br>Leaf shook her head. "We don't deal in something-for-nothing trades."  
>The Clan cats looked at each other. "Fine, you can stay with us," growled Rowanclaw, "if you get us home."<p>

"Done," purred Saffron. "As to the _useful_ information…you're being followed. Not by us. A huge group of cats-larger than I've ever seen before. There's more than you, and trust me, they aren't starving by anyone's standards."  
>"Impossible," scoffed Lionblaze. "We would have sensed them."<br>Leaf turned her bright green gaze on him. "Jock," she muttered under her breath, but Lionblaze did not hear her. "You won't have smelled them because they move when you do and stop when you stop. Understand? They're not fools. They creep a little closer every hour."  
>"Why are they following us?" asked Reedwhisker.<br>"Now how would we know that?" mewed Saffron, sounding amused. "Could be that they're interested in your new friend. Or maybe they just want to know why such a large group of cats is wandering around the place, clearly lost. This isn't friendly territory."  
>"This isn't territory at <em>all<em>," grunted Lionblaze. Leaf rolled her eyes to the sky, mouthing her earlier insult. Saffron glanced at her, then looked back at the golden tabby.  
>"Out here, most cats don't really bother with scent marks. It's a pain having to renew them and it's not necessary. They mainly use physical landmarks as borders. Did you cross a stream?"<br>"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," mewed Tawnypelt. "We've forded several, from memory."  
>"Well, streams are the most common boundary mark you'll find out here. So I think that's probably the group who owns this place."<br>"But then again," mewed Leaf, "maybe we're idiots and we don't know what we're talking about. So we'll leave it up to you."  
>"How do we know you're not with them?" demanded Rowanclaw, fur bristling.<p>

"Well, for a start," mewed Saffron, in the tone of voice one might use to explain to a kit that the number after one was two, "if we were with them then we wouldn't be telling you they were following, would we?"  
>Rowanclaw opened his mouth in anger, but the two newcomers flicked their tails and dropped back to the throng of cats.<br>"Impertinent rogues!" he spat.  
>"But right, dear," mewed Tawnypelt, his mate. "Group up the cats and prepare them for a fight. They-"<br>"Cats coming this way!" Spiderleg howled from his sentry post. "Lots of cats!"  
>Willowshine raced over to the ThunderClan warrior. "Great StarClan, look how many there are!" she cried.<p>

A surge of cats was racing towards them across the drying fields. They were eerily silent, the only noise coming from the pounding of their paws on the harsh earth. When they were less than a few fox-lengths away, they skidded as one and halted instantly.  
>A cat paced from their ranks. He was a huge brown tabby.<br>"You break our borders, we break your necks," he spat thickly. He turned his gaze upon the wolf, and Willowshine felt almost amused as she saw the shock play across his scarred face.  
>"You bring vermin as pets, then?" the tom growled.<br>_What's a pet?  
><em>The golden rogue Saffron strolled calmly over. "They're doing an escort mission, friend," he said cheerfully. "They're just a bit lost."  
>The tom looked at Saffron as though he was rotting crowfood. "I do not care if they were trying to save the world, they are trespassers and we kill them and use their pelts for our nests."<br>Lionblaze fell gracefully into a fighting crouch. "You could try!"  
>The tom turned an identical expression on the warrior. He glanced back at his cats.<br>His order was surprisingly simple.  
>"Kill." <p>


	8. Chapter 7: Hollyleaf

**Hello there :) This is one of my favorite chapters. It's raining, and rain usually helps me write better. I'm a bit iffy when it comes to battle scenes-sometimes I write them well, sometimes I don't. I would love a review to tell me if this battle is okay, or if it sucks. I used Lionblaze's perspective because, although he is not going to be a main perspective (in this fiction, at least), a battle is more interesting from a warrior in the action than a medicine cat watching. I also hope this explains sufficiently why none of the cats recognized Hollyleaf!**

The command may have been simple, but the attack was far from it.  
>The brown tom-whose name was Mantine, though the Clan cats would never know it-was no fool. He divided his vast throng of cats into three groups, and attacked in three vast swooping waves. Every few minutes one wave would fall back to be replaced by fresh cats.<br>Blood smeared the barren plains as the Clan cats fought the rogues, howling in rage and fear. Fur drifted through the air like pollen, and settled on the corpses of cats.  
>Lionblaze ducked under a rogue tom's blow and snapped his neck cleanly, feeling the gush of blood warm his mouth. He felt exhilarated. Fighting was the air he breathed and battle the flesh he ate. He never felt so alive as when he was fighting for his life. With a snarl he looked around for Mantine, but the rogue leader was nowhere to be seen. Fury turned his blood to lightning as he sank his claws into an enemy she-cat's side and laid open her ribs, ignoring her squeals of agony. His golden tabby fur was stained red, but no wound touched his skin. For this was Lionblaze's power; the power to have control over life itself. There was no warrior code to contain his bloodlust, and every time his teeth snapped down, another ghost drifted into whatever lonely skies the dead walked.<br>As he clawed open the face of another enemy, he relished in his strength. _I could fight this battle single-pawed; I could kill every single one of them and not gain a scratch! _He swung around and his yellow eyes met those of a cat who had hoped to attack from behind. He bared his teeth in a feral grin as he saw the fear in her face.  
><em>Oh, little she-cat, I would feel sorry for you if you were not trying to kill me!<em>  
>Sorry? No, not sorry, because that implied regret, and that was an emotion Lionblaze was unfamiliar with. Instead, he was filled with a mixture of contempt and helpless pity as he sprang on her and crunched into the back of her neck with his long yellow fangs.<p>

Willowshine stood, quivering in terror as the bloodbath before her swelled. She was standing a reasonable distance from the battle, but they would find her soon enough. Already she could see some Clanmates lying silently in pools of scarlet, and she knew that her corpse would join theirs before long. A deep tear in her hind leg prevented her from resting her weight on all fours; instead she shook on three legs that could barely carry her.  
>The wolf-where was it? She forced herself to look past the violence and search the dead. The wolf would not fight; the herbs prevented it. Even if a cat ordered her to, she would be incapable of doing it. She remembered discussing the herb with Stoneteller-how long ago was that? Time seemed to be out of place and distorted, pierced with images of blood and gore.<br>The wolf was not among the carcasses, and neither was the little to-be, Rabbit. He must have ordered her to run for shelter. Why he had done that, Willowshine had no idea, but then the healer was a strange cat at the best of times. Perhaps he thought the wolf would protect him.  
>She barely remembered her escape. Brief flashes were presented to her-of hearing her Clanmates' screams, of hearing the warning growls of the wolf, and the brown tom opening his mouth to sound their doom. She remembered claws raking her leg, she remembered the agony flashing through her, and then-nothing. She supposed she must have ran, stumbling through the fights, and crawling to this spot where she would undoubtedly die anyway.<p>

"Hey!" growled a voice near her. Willowshine let out a squeal and swung around, flattening her ears in attempt of hopeless defiance.  
>"Relax!" said the voice urgently. "It's me, all right? Saffron."<br>Willowshine shook her head. A red mist seemed to be clouding her vision. Still, the voice was familiar. "I can't see…" she whispered softly.  
>"Shock," came the haughty voice of Leaf. "Take deep breaths, close your eyes for a bit."<br>Willowshine did so and found that world seemed to steady and stop spinning. When she opened her eyes again, the black she-cat and the golden tom were indeed standing before her.  
>"Quickly!" she choked, her breath rattling in her dry throat, "We've got to run!"<br>"No, we don't," said Leaf soothingly. "The rocks over there are the borders of their territory. They won't come here."

"Rocks?" said Willowshine dazedly. She looked back at the battlefield, which seemed to be settling down slightly.  
>The barren plain was dotted with large boulders, but a large pile of them lay almost directly in front of her. She vaguely remembered stumbling over them.<br>"Come on," said Saffron urgently, "we've got to move. They might not come here, but soon other predators will, and you're in no shape to fight a fox or an owl."  
>Willowshine shook her head. "No. I have to stay, to help out my Clanmates…"<br>Leaf leaned into her. "I'm sorry, Willowshine," she said gently. "If they're still in that fight, they're dead. But don't give up. I saw a few of your friends escape. They still have a chance."  
>The grey she-cat looked into that face, and saw sadness in the green eyes. Somehow, it was strangely comforting, and suddenly Willowshine wished so strongly that it was all a bad dream, and she would wake up in Mothwing's den with the beautiful medicine cat calling her name.<p>

The she-cat sat back. "You really don't remember me, do you?" Her voice was soft.  
>Willowshine looked closer and this time held her gaze, searching.<br>"Are you Hollyleaf?" she mewed quietly, and felt the world beneath her paws settle slightly, as though an unbreakable truth had been spoken.  
>"I am."<br>"But why didn't Lionblaze recognize you? Why didn't Squirrelflight? Why didn't I?" Even as she spoke, she knew the answer. Hollyleaf smelled completely different, her fur lined with an aroma of wildness and freedom. She had grown larger and stronger over the moons, and her facial features were now more defined. As an apprentice and young warrior there had been a sort of softness in the shape of Hollyleaf's muzzle and forehead that spoke of kindness and generosity. Now, though, her jaw was set rigidly, and her mouth was set in a firm unsmiling line. Willowshine looked into the face of her old friend and saw darkness stare back at her. She doubted she would have ever recognized the she-cat without looking as closely as this.

For all that, there was a strange beauty in Hollyleaf, one that Willowshine had never seen in a Clan cat. It took her a while to place it. It originated in the way she held her head, in the fiery depths of her green eyes, in the straightness of her tail. Hollyleaf was a she-cat that knew exactly what lay in her soul and had mastered it. No Clan cat could say the same.  
>Hollyleaf pulled back from Willowshine and looked at her mate. Saffron shifted from paw to paw. "We really should move," he murmured. "Before dawn, at least."<br>Startled, Willowshine had looked up. She must have been standing horror-stricken for much longer than she remembered, for night had completely settled. The only light came from a cat's claw moon and a glittering carpet of stars. Remembering her quest, she let out a small wail.  
>"We've failed, you know."<p>

Hollyleaf looked at her. "Failed in what?"  
>"We were supposed to take the wolf back to the Clans. Now we'll all starve to death!"<br>Saffron blinked. "Calm yourself down, will you? You'll never get anywhere with that sort of attitude. I saw that little cat run away with his wolf. They'll probably be somewhere in the forest-"  
>"Forest?" gasped Willowshine.<br>"Forest," purred Hollyleaf. "You took the wrong turning at the cowplace. Should have gone left and crossed the Thunderpath."  
>"And then all this would have been avoided," Willowshine said sadly.<br>"Don't go there," said Saffron sternly. "You'll go crazy with the what-ifs. The fact is, it's happened, and you need to deal with it as best you can." He looked back at the battle. "Looks like they're done."  
>Sure enough, the sprawling mass of rogue cats were leaping away across the dead lands, their victorious yowls more or less identical to their battle cries. When every cat was gone, Willowshine gasped as she saw a cat lift its head and stumble away in the opposite direction.<p>

"Lionblaze." murmured Hollyleaf, a strange note in her voice.  
>"How do you know?"<br>"It'll be Lionblaze because it's always Lionblaze. He's too good for them." She did not elaborate.  
>Willowshine leaned forwards. "He's going the wrong way."<br>Saffron shrugged. "He'll backtrack to the cowplace soon enough. Right now, we need to think of ourselves, and get you back to your…Clan?"  
>Hollyleaf flicked his ear with her tail. "We should split up. Less danger of being found."<br>"Split up?" whispered Willowshine.  
>"You'll be fine," answered the black she-cat firmly. "Just follow your scent-trail back to the cowplace and we'll meet you there. See you soon, Willowshine."<br>And with that, the two cats bounded in different directions, before fading from the young medicine cat's sight.  
>To become one with the shadows once more.<p> 


	9. Chapter 8: Among The Trees

_One of the worst things about being Clan leader, _Mistystar thought, _is that you can't ever refuse a good idea without looking like a fox.  
><em>She, Pebblefoot, and Mallownose were padding alongside the lake, keeping within the allocated boundaries that the Clans had allowed. They had come to report to ThunderClan about the badger (and to gloat).  
>Mistystar had originally not wanted to go. Reedwhisker's patrol was due back either today or tomorrow, and a cold knot of anxiety had settled in her stomach. She worried for him, but not only that, things just didn't seem to run as smoothly without him. Pebblefoot was a fine deputy, but he didn't understand her idiosyncrasies like her son did. She didn't want to miss his return.<br>But Pebblefoot had pointed out that it was highly unlikely that two RiverClan cats would be taken to the ThunderClan camp without a figure of authority behind them. It was more probable they would be attacked by a patrol and driven away. And Mistystar had learned over the years that it was not a good idea to ignore Pebblefoot's advice.

So here she was, padding into hostile territory, while even now her son might be announcing his return. Of course, they would tell him where she was, and it might be that Reedwhisker would escort the ThunderClan warriors back to their territories first. She might run into him at the camp.  
>Again, unlikely. But possible.<br>The RiverClan patrol stopped just before the stream that marked the borders between WindClan and ThunderClan, and sat down. Mallownose kept shifting uncomfortably. The sweeping wind and lack of cover made him feel uncomfortable; Mistystar knew the feeling. She could hardly wait to get back under the shade of trees herself. But fidgeting was hardly going to help.  
>"Don't ThunderClan warriors ever patrol their borders?" muttered the young warrior after they had sat in silence for a time.<br>"Yes, they do," rasped Pebblefoot. "Be patient, Mallownose. Consider this a test from StarClan."  
>"I'm hungry and I'm <em>bored<em>," growled Mallownose. "Where do you think-"  
>"I smell RiverClan!" announced a voice from the forest before them.<p>

"At last!" muttered Mistystar, getting to her paws. "We're over here!" she called.  
>A patrol of three cats emerged from the trees and stopped by the stream. "What do you want?" growled the leader, an old brown tabby. Mistystar knew him.<br>"It's Dustpelt, isn't it?"  
>Dustpelt nodded curtly. "What do you want?" he repeated.<br>_Oh, I don't know…help ourselves to some of your territory…steal some prey…  
><em>"We wish to speak with Firestar," Mistystar mewed with composure.  
>Another cat, a cream-coloured tom that she knew by sight but not name, straightened up. "What for?"<br>"We wish to speak with Firestar," said Pebblefoot pointedly, "not his warriors."  
>The tom bristled angrily, and Dustpelt lay a tail on his shoulder. The third cat, a tortoiseshell she-cat, did nothing at all, and there was a dullness to her eyes. Did she have family on the wolf patrol, too?<br>Dustpelt continued to stare suspiciously at her, and Mistystar sighed. "I don't have a whole pack of warriors hidden behind me! I just need to talk with Firestar about something. Either take me to him or drive us out; you choose."  
>The brown tabby shrugged his massive shoulders. "Fine. Whatever." He looked at the tortoiseshell. "Poppyfrost, go to the ThunderClan camp and tell Firestar we've got visitors."<p>

The sad she-cat said nothing, and merely turned on her paws and disappeared into the woods.  
>"What's her problem?" muttered Mallownose, and Mistystar hushed him.<br>Dustpelt and the cream tom walked on each side of them. Mistystar felt like pointing out that if she wanted to fight them she could do so easily, but held her tongue. Dustpelt kept his gaze steadily ahead, but the cream tom kept glancing back at them until Mallownose could not keep silent.  
>"Lost something?" he demanded rudely.<br>The warrior just sneered, as though he had won a battle that Mistystar had been unaware of. There was a _thud_, and Mistystar guessed that Pebblefoot had kicked him.  
>Mistystar wrinkled her nose as they slid within the brambles into the ThunderClan camp. She always felt a shiver of revulsion. She respected Firestar, but what cat in their right mind would want to sleep and share tongues in a Twoleg hollow? Certainly there were none now, but they could return at any time. And even if Twolegs stayed away, Mistystar knew she could never sleep here, with the walls shutting out the wind and sun. ThunderClan was welcome to their territory, haunted with the memories of enemies long before.<p>

She jolted out of her reverie-how often had she done that lately?- to notice Firestar emerging from his den, with Sandstorm at his side. She knew Sandstorm quite well; in the old forest, the ginger she-cat had helped her mentor Feathertail when she lived in ThunderClan for a brief stint. Mistystar had been impressed with the she-cat's loyalty and fortitude, and calmed down slightly.  
>"Mistystar!" greeted the leader of ThunderClan, clearing the distance between them with his long stride. "How are you?"<br>"I'm well, thank you," she mewed politely. Why did Firestar always think that the other Clan leaders were his friends? It was embarrassing, to say the least.  
>"So-what brings you here?" the flame-coloured tom said, picking up on her formal tone.<br>Mistystar flicked her ears. "That little badger of yours-which you neglected to mention at the Gathering, I might add."

Silence-dead silence-fell over the hollow as every cat turned their head to stare. Eyes widened, pelts bristled, and tails twitched. Mistystar held her ground, though unease traced its way up her spine.  
>Firestar seemed shaken. "Oh, yes, the badger," he mewed, clearing his throat. "I apologize, but we discovered it <em>after <em>the Gathering so there was no real way we could have let you know. Anyway-we weren't aware it had left our territory."  
>Pebblefoot shifted beside her, and Mistystar found herself remembering his words: <em>How did the badger cross the borders without a patrol picking up its scent?<br>_A badger that didn't leave a scent trail? It wasn't possible. _Everything _had scent.  
>She looked into Firestar's eyes. "That seems rather careless of you, Firestar," she said softly. "But you'll be glad to know that the badger is dead."<br>The tom's mouth dropped open. "You killed it?"  
>"Yes."<br>There was a ripple through the ThunderClan cats, and suddenly a cat yowled out, "Murderers! They killed Sorreltail!"

A fierce snarl of agreement echoed through the hollow, and Pebblefoot swung around. "What in the name of StarClan are you talking about?"  
>But Mistystar was remembering the scent of ThunderClan on the badger's claws. "Sorreltail?" she demanded harshly, staring at Firestar.<br>"A warrior of ours-"  
>"I know who she is!" snapped the blue-grey she-cat. "Why does your Clan think we killed her?"<br>Firestar shifted his paws. "We believe she was fighting that same badger and was slain by a cat shortly afterwards."  
>"So that we did it, is that right?" Mallownose shook his head. "How can your Clan be so incompetent that you let a badger and a rogue slip through your borders without being detected?"<br>"Watch who you call incompetent, you piece of fox dung!" snarled Dustpelt.  
>The cream tom sprang to his paws. "Let me rip his fur off," he begged. "See if he's so cocky then-"<br>"_Enough!"_ spat Firestar. He rounded on Mistystar. "Control your warrior!"  
>"Not when he has a point," she said wearily. She looked at Mallownose. "Keep your opinions to yourself in future, Mallownose."<p>

The ThunderClan cats were drawing into a circle, baring teeth and unsheathing claws. Firestar flicked his tail angrily. "Enough!" he repeated. "Mistystar, may you and I speak privately?"  
>Mistystar tilted her head. <em>How much of a fool does he think I am? <em>"And leave my warriors to this mob?"  
>"Your warriors will not be harmed," said Firestar through gritted teeth.<br>Brambleclaw stepped forwards. "I'll look after them, Mistystar." He at least did not seem to be hostile.  
>Firestar met her gaze, and she shrugged. "Let's just get this over with," she muttered, and nodded to Pebblefoot. He drew closer, and she whispered in his ear, "Keep Mallownose from opening his mouth. If he does, tell him he'll be on apprentice duties for a moon. Two moons, if he complains."<br>The tom nodded and stepped back. She followed the ThunderClan leader to his den.

Firestar sat down, and suddenly looked weary. "I'm sorry, Mistystar," he mewed. "But ever since Sorreltail's death they've been on the edge. They want vengeance."  
>"I can see that, Firestar," she replied curtly. "But RiverClan had nothing to do with the death of your warrior. We would not be such fools."<br>The ginger tom stared at her intently. "Are you certain?"  
>She dug her claws into the earth. "I can bring Pebblefoot in here and get him to account for each of my cats, if it would please you."<br>Firestar shook his head. "No, I believe you. I brought you in here to ask something else. Come closer."

She did so, feeling uneasy. To her confusion, he lifted a paw. "Look."  
>The RiverClan leader stared at him. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"<br>"Look closer!" he insisted, and Mistystar realised she would have no peace until she did, and leaned forwards.  
>A faint, foul smell of something that she could not name-almost like rotting crowfood, but not quite-came from his paw. Her eyes piercing, she followed the scent to his source-a bulging mass in between his pads that had no fur on it.<br>Curling her lip in disgust, Mistystar sat back. "What…is that?" she said.  
>Firestar shook his head. "I don't know. Jayfeather doesn't know. It started nearly three moons ago, and nothing we've tried has brought down the swelling. This isn't even the original mass. It was on the back of my leg at first, until Jayfeather cut it out. Then, this one started growing."<p>

Mistystar shuddered. "Why are you telling me this?"  
>"Because I'm dying," he said with perfect composure. "I can feel it. It's sucking out my strength, bit by bit. I have one life remaining, Mistystar. When I lose this one, I go to StarClan. This small, seemingly insignificant mass will be my end. It grows larger every sun. Sometimes, I can hardly feel my paw." He blinked his green eyes.<br>Mistystar gaped up at him. "But-"  
>"I don't know why I'm telling you. Maybe so you understand why I might be slipping slightly." His shoulders quivered. "Or maybe I just need someone to turn to. Sandstorm and Jayfeather both know, but they don't believe I'm dying. They think it will go away on its own." The tom gave an ironic smile. "I always wanted to die in battle, you know…not sickness."<br>Mistystar took a few steps back. _That's it. I came here to discuss a badger, not take a trip into Crazyfield. _"I'm…I'm sorry," she mewed, "But-I don't see what I can do. Forgive me…" She padded out of the den, feeling his green gaze on her bristling spine.  
>"Come on, we're done here," she muttered to Pebblefoot. "Did Mallownose behave?"<br>"Fortunately," he replied. "What did he wish to speak about?"  
>Mistystar bit her lip. "I don't know. I need to do some thinking about it, first." She heard Firestar emerge from his den. "Goodbye, Mistystar," he said softly.<br>"Do we escort them to the border?" demanded Dustpelt. Firestar shook his head. "They know the way."


	10. Chapter 9: Wolfsong

**NB: The song Matilda sings is called "Moth's Wings", and it is by Passion Pit. I have changed a few lyrics so that it would fit into their world.**

Matilda, once the feared alpha female of a mighty pack, was sleeping.  
>Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream watched her openly, strangely relieved that there were no other cats around to break his attention. If he were back in the Cave of Rushing Water, his den-mates would mock him and laugh. If he were walking with the Clan cats, they would shift their paws and look at him uneasily.<br>They did not like it that he spent so much time with her. Yes, he was her keeper, and yes, he had to keep a close eye on the she-wolf. But Rabbit seemed to view her as an intelligent, sentient being in her own right and they drew the line there.

But try as he might, he could not stay away. There was some connection that tugged him to her, similar to the feeling he felt whenever he studied the moon in search of signs from his ancestors. It was a mixture of awe and fear, for she was something that he would never understand, if he lived for a thousand seasons. She was so fundamentally different from him and so much more powerful; it was the fascination of the unknown that kept him from simply walking away.  
>For he should have done so. The herbs had probably worn off some time ago, but she had yet to regain her memory of recent events. Matilda still believed, for some reason or another, that they were simply travelling together. She viewed him as a somewhat inept and helpless creature who she stayed with simply because he was useful.<p>

Though the herbs were wearing off, it could not return knowledge she never had. Matilda didn't know where she was. Neither did Rabbit, but he pretended otherwise, or the she-wolf would leave him. And he wouldn't fool himself; if she left, there was every probability he would die.  
>Rabbit had lived among the Tribe of Rushing Water all his life, and had rarely left the Cave except to treat injuries in cats outside. No-one had ever taught him how to hunt or fight, because they had never imagined he would need it. The lands around him were strange and hostile. At night, the fur on the back of his neck continuously prickled and he lived in constant fear that someone was watching. <em>If this goes on for much longer, I'll go mad.<em>

__Suddenly he jerked back. The silver beast was awakening, and Rabbit held his breath, filled with icy fear that her clouded memories had sharpened and she would kill him on the spot.  
>But that day was not today.<br>"Little kitten," she greeted him softly, climbing to her paws and flexing. "Where do we go now?"  
>Rabbit glanced up ahead. He wanted to find a field, some patch of open ground, somewhere where he could see the sky, and maybe the mountains. They had been heading in the right direction yesterday. But it was all too easy to get turned around in a forest.<br>"Straight ahead, I suppose," he mewed, and she looked at him sharply.  
>"You suppose, kitten?"<br>Rabbit could not meet her gaze. "Yes. Straight ahead."

She continued to watch him, sighed, then took the lead, her silver fur flashing as she wound her way through the trees. "Sometimes, little kitten, I do not think you know where we are any more than I do."  
>"I <em>do <em>know," he mewed hurriedly. "But I need to get to a piece of open field to check."  
>"You can discover our position by finding the sky?"<br>"The mountains, Matilda. If I can see them, I know which way to go."  
>Matilda's sense of smell was probably fifty times better than his own, but after being with her for a while, he had learnt some things about wolf anatomy. Firstly, he had better hearing than she did. At night, when his ears were quivering at the faint sounds of enemies in the undergrowth, Matilda heard nothing. Though their night vision was roughly identical, and her peripheral scope superior, the wolf was also near-sighted and struggled to make out objects from very far away. So she had no real choice but to trust his guidance. But Rabbit was painfully aware that once she could see the mountains for herself they would part ways.<p>

Suddenly a sound reached his ears, one of the most beautiful and haunting sounds he had ever heard. It was pure and strong, like the flowing water in a stream, and throbbed like a second heartbeat. It rippled through his fur like a lonely breeze and made the fur of his shoulders stand on end.  
>Matilda had stopped some way ahead of him, and was howling into the rising sun as though greeting it. Rabbit stopped too, and sat down, curling his tail around his paws, his ears ringing with sound. And as he listened, he found words drifting from her voice, though in his heart he knew she was not speaking his language at all.<p>

_Dear friend, as you know,  
>Your flowers are withering<br>Your mother's gone missing  
>Your leaves have drifted away.<br>But the clouds are clearing up  
>And I've come rabbiting<br>Burning incandescently  
>Like the bark of a burning tree.<em>

_You're just like your father  
>Buried deep under the water<br>You're resting on your laurels  
>And stepping on my tail.<br>Whose side are you on?  
>What side is this anyway?<br>Who downed your soaring cloud?  
>Come, lay with me on the ground.<em>

She closed her jaws and looked at him inquiringly. "Is something the matter, little kitten?"  
>Rabbit realized he had been staring at her with his mouth open slightly. "N-no," he mewed hurriedly. "That-that was beautiful."<br>Matilda shrugged. "It was nothing compared to the howls of the storytellers in my pack, but I am glad you liked it."  
>"What did the song mean?"<br>"It means what the listener wishes it to mean. That is the law of the wolfsong. What one howls is not necessarily what others hear." She climbed to her paws again. "Do we continue?"  
>Rabbit nodded. "Yes. Let's go."<p>

They travelled through the forest for some time before Rabbit spoke again. "What you sung, is that the end of it?"  
>Matilda tilted her head back to look at him. "No. There is another part."<br>"Would you mind singing the rest for me?"  
>She walked on a few paces, seeming to think, before lifting her head again to howl.<p>

_You come beating like moth's wings  
>Frantic and violently<br>Whipping me into a storm  
>Shaking me down to the core<br>But you've run away from me  
>And you left me shimmering<br>Like star-birds' shining wings  
>Spinning dizzily down on the floor.<em>

"It's beautiful," Rabbit repeated. "When you come back to the mountains, you'll have to howl for my Tribemates."  
>Matilda eyed him. "No, little kitten, I do not think so."<br>"Why not?" he said.  
>"I do not think they would welcome me."<br>"Once they learn you can talk-"  
>The wolf curled her lip ever-so-slightly. "Little kitten, I have been having dreams. Powerful dreams, of my pack and I fighting our enemies and hunting our prey. And last night, I dreamed of hunting cats. I think they were cats of your Tribe, for they smelt similar." Her eyes glittered. "It was wonderful. We chased them across rock and river until they had nowhere left to run. I could taste their terror on the breeze, and heard their screams. They were trembling at my paws, because that was where your kind deserved to be." She looked at Rabbit again. "Do you truly believe your Tribe will welcome me?"<p>

Rabbit's mouth had gone dry.  
>"I can smell your emotions, small one. You fear me. I am your worst nightmare. Every time your back is turned you think I am stalking you from behind. It was the same in my dreams. Your kind is full of terror, and I remember it." She smiled, showing white teeth. "And yet-that is not the only reason you are afraid. There is something…else. Something I don't remember…" She frowned thoughtfully.<br>Rabbit shook his head. "There is nothing…"  
>"Why am I travelling with you, cat?"<br>Rabbit hunched his shoulders and dropped his head, desperately trying to avoid meeting her eyes. Could she read minds as well as emotions? 

"You will not say. Very well, I am sure I will remember eventually. And do not fear- I will let you know when that happens." She turned around and disappeared into the trees ahead of him.  
>Rabbit stayed where he was, every part of him shaking.<br>_Run! Get out now. She's as good as told you you're dead. Leave, and you might survive, _a voice told him sternly.  
>Rabbit considered this seriously. He could not look after himself. Every night the wolf hunted for them both. Her scent alone was enough to keep badgers, owls and foxes at bay.<br>_Do you really want to go back to the Tribe, anyway? Explain to Stoneteller how you didn't have the guts to kill a mindless animal?  
><em>Rabbit thought, and thought, until finally he made a decision.  
>He found the wolf's trail, and padded after it.<em><br>_


	11. Chapter 10: The Living

**NB: Apologies for the delay-I'm back at school now, so chapters will be coming at a slower pace.**

Saffron awoke to a beautiful dawn.  
>The heavy golden sun hung like a ripe peach over the eastern horizon, piercing flower-pink clouds with strong fingers. From those clouds drifted thick swathes of mist, each droplet turned into a miniature rainbow by reflection. The air was cool, but not leaf-bare cold; it was the perfect invisible temperature. The fog seemed to give off a clean, sharp smell that refreshed his senses and seemed to stir life into his sleepy blood.<br>The mist ran its fingers through his fur then, and Saffron sighed. His golden coat was now dusted with beads of moisture. He shook himself in a futile attempt to get dry and gently prodded Hollyleaf from inside the tree-log where they had spent what was left of the night. They were in the forest, with the Twoleg cowplace a few minutes' walk for a healthy cat.  
>His mate climbed out of their makeshift den, her fur ruffled. Her green eyes were still as clear as ever, and there was no trace of exhaustion in her mew, despite their late night.<p>

"Did Willowshine make it here?"  
>Saffron shrugged. "I don't know. I've been asleep." Usually they kept watch throughout the darkness, but after the bloody scene the night before both cats had just wanted to surrender themselves to oblivion. Hollyleaf nodded in understanding and flexed, her thorn-claws digging into the moist earth.<br>"So," the golden tom said carefully, "now what?"  
>Hollyleaf looked him in the eyes. "We made a deal."<br>"No," he mewed simply. "We agreed we would guide them home in return for safety. There is no safety with them anymore. The wolf is gone, and most of them are dead."  
>The black she-cat sighed and shook her head. "It's not just that. They're my Clanmates…we shared a home. I may not be a warrior anymore, but I still bear a warrior name, so I think I have a duty to see them safely back to their territories."<p>

"You aren't a warrior to them," he mewed gently. "You're Leaf, the black loner who just _happened _to run into them in their hour of need. They may not be smart enough to recognise an old denmate, but even they will smell something suspicious."  
>Hollyleaf straightened her spine. "Look at it this way. We've lived as mercenaries. We take orders from sadistic tyrants and take lives at their whim. I don't regret it…not exactly, anyway…but we did it because we knew that inside ourselves we were good cats. But if we walk away from a group of injured cats, and they die because we didn't help…we can't exactly make the same claims, can we?" Her eyes were shadowed, and Saffron felt his heart soften.<p>

"Okay," he decided. "Sure. Why not? Our conscience is our only law. Let's go."  
>Hollyleaf looked at him. "Do you mean that or are you just saying it?"<br>Saffron smiled. "Would you kill me if I said that it might be a little of both? I don't like these cats. They're arrogant, foolish, and haven't the sense of a blind kit. They believe themselves to be superior to all cats, simply because one of them had the bright idea seasons ago that things might be a little easier if they joined forces. I don't want to help them, but if you insist, I'll do it."  
>His mate twitched her tail. "I came from those cats, Saffron."<br>He nodded. "I know," he said with a small grin. "That's why it took me so long to break you of the habit."

She swatted at him with her paw. "Oh, hush, you, before I pull out your ears. Anyway, we need to find Willowshine." She hesitated. "Do you think we should have left her alone?"  
>Saffron shrugged. "It was the right decision at the time. It was hardly a difficult thing for her to do. We'll probably find her a bit closer to the cowplace, though-she wouldn't have wandered far from what she knew."<br>Hollyleaf nodded and the two cats fanned out among the damp trees, moving like liquid shadows through the foggy undergrowth. They made no noise as they paced through the green; as befitted as two predators who together had seen and done more than any other animal in these woods.  
>Suddenly Saffron halted, his sharp eyes picking out the insubstantial form of a small cat crouched underneath a bush. The cowplace was in plain sight, and the black-and-white animals' pungent smell made him wrinkle his nose. There were traces of dog in the area; stale, but enough to make him prick up his ears and step lightly. The dogs at this cowplace were fierce and bloodthirsty; Hollyleaf had told him about the time she had nearly lost her life being chased by them.<p>

"Willowshine?" he called, and the misty silhouette lifted its head. Slowly Willowshine emerged into clear view, and Hollyleaf joined them at a flick of his tail.  
>"Thank StarClan you found me!" the little grey she-cat mewed softly, casting glances over her shoulder. "I smelt dog, but I didn't dare go any deeper into the woods…"<br>"It's okay," Hollyleaf mewed. "The dogs go wandering around here sometimes, but only in the afternoons. The rest of the time they're kept locked up." Her confident voice seemed to soothe Willowshine, and she looked at her old friend gratefully.  
>The medicine cat sat up. "Are you going to help me find the rest of the Clan cats?" she mewed tentatively. Saffron knew that she meant it as a question, not a request.<br>"Yes." Hollyleaf said firmly, with a brief glance at him. Saffron nodded in agreement. "We are," he said simply.

"Thank you," said Willowshine in obvious relief. She looked around. "I don't know how to find them in this," she admitted. "I can't pick up any scents."  
>"It'll be hard in this fog," agreed Hollyleaf. "I think we should head back to the fields where the battle was, and try and find a trail there."<br>Willowshine looked at Hollyleaf with sad affection. "I always thought you would be a Clan leader one day, Hollyleaf."  
>Hollyleaf said nothing, but the fur across her shoulders bristled ever-so-slightly. "I don't think I have the right background." Before Willowshine could respond, she was trotting briskly past the cowplace, following the path of the night before.<br>When they stopped at the bottom of the hill that gave rise to the barren plains, Saffron nodded to them both. "Don't look at the corpses. Trust me, sometimes…you just don't want to know."  
>Willowshine suddenly looked fierce. "I have to know," she said firmly. "What if I'm the only Clan cat left?"<p>

"She's a medicine cat, Saffron," murmured Hollyleaf. "They see things like this all the time."  
>Saffron shrugged. "Have it your way."<br>They crested the hill, and both he and Hollyleaf ducked their heads to avoid seeing the dead. Willowshine listed their names anyway.  
>"Spiderleg. Robinwing. Beetlewhisker…Squirrelflight." Hollyleaf made a choked sound in her throat before lowering her head to the ground. "Owlwhisker, Crowfeather" -Hollyleaf flinched again –"Smokefoot…Rowanclaw."<br>"He was that foul-tempered ginger tom, wasn't he?" mewed Saffron softly.  
>Hollyleaf and Willowshine both nodded silently.<p>

"You've got to admit, though," mewed Saffron, determined to stay cheerful, "that could have been much worse. You've still got at least half your original cats left, not including the to-be.  
>Hollyleaf looked at Willowshine. "Who would be left?"<br>The medicine cat closed her eyes. "Lionblaze, of course. Thornclaw, Tigerheart, Tawnypelt, Harespring, Heathertail, Petalfur, and Reedwhisker."  
>"There you go," mewed Saffron, forcing an optimistic tone of voice. "Eleven cats, if you count us-twelve, with the to-be. Still enough to round up a wolf and guide it back."<br>"I doubt it," mewed Willowshine softly. "We kept the wolf sedated with special herbs. They would have worn off by now."

"Still, you'll have to try, right?" said Hollyleaf. "You're a medicine cat-you can't just give up."  
>Willowshine smiled. "No, I guess I can't. Let's find those scents."<br>They did not have to search long. Though the scent of blood and terror was strong, there was a patch of scents that were stronger still.  
>"These are fresh," Saffron reported. "A few hours at most."<br>"Looks like someone's done our work for us," observed Hollyleaf.  
>"Let's go!" demanded Willowshine, digging at the earth with her claws in impatience.<br>Between Hollyleaf and Willowshine, they had managed to identify every scent in the patch-all of the cats named alive by the grey she-cat earlier. But padding a little way ahead, the only cat who did not smell injured strode with heavy paws that pressed the damp ground into prints.  
><em>Lionblaze.<em>


	12. Chapter 11: The Things You Know

_Several Suns Previously_

The tom-cat took a deep breath, to steady his racing heart.  
>It was a few hours away from dawn, and the stars were beginning to fade, though there was no sign of the sun. He liked this time best of all, when he did not feel either the eyes of his ancestors or those of his Clanmates upon him. Watching him. Silently judging all that he was, for things he couldn't help.<br>Anger pulsed through his body like a lightning bolt. How dare they question his loyalty? He had hunted throughout the frozen leaf-bare, chasing prey that seemed two steps ahead of every other cat. When the green of newleaf kissed the trees, and everyone had relaxed, he had not. He had remained vigilant, guarding his Clan throughout their darkest days, where every dawn seemed to claim a new life.  
>In return, they gave him nothing-nothing but suspicion and mistrust. Even the kits whispered when he walked by, after drinking their mothers' tales of his past.<br>_I guess it's true then. There is nothing innocent in this world._

__The tom inhaled again, clearing and focussing his mind. There was nothing to be gained from anger and bitterness. He'd show them all eventually, and he'd teach them in a way that they would never forget. His methods might have to be brutal, but sometimes blood was the only thing that got through the thick skulls of the righteous Clan cats.  
>He flexed his muscular shoulders, hunched his head, and squeezed into the burrow.<br>Before him lay a strange sight, yet it was exactly as he expected. Thin slivers of stone, ten in all, lay on the earthen floor of the hole. In ages previously, it might have been the home of a badger or fox, but generations of snow, wind and water had bleached the scent from the root-threaded walls.  
>The tom smiled. Everything was just how he had left it. Sometimes he worried that a predator might see the advantages of the burrow and make it their den, but it had never happened. Something about the den frightened them.<br>Or, perhaps, it was not so much the den that struck fear into their hearts but rather where the den led.  
>The cat lay down-it was easier that way-and extended his claws. They were normal claws, perfectly adequate for everyday situations. But the tom did not want to be a normal, everyday cat. He wanted to be a legend. And these thin slivers of stone were going to help him achieve it.<br>He arranged the stones with delicate paws, turning the broader, flat base towards him. The stones were hollowed out on the inside. It had taken him seasons to find ten such stones in the mud of the stream and by the lakeshore. Then, using his teeth, talons, and other rocks, he had honed the edges until they were so sharp that if a cat had stepped on them it would have pierced their paws to the bone.  
>Gripping the first stone in his teeth, wincing as he felt the discomfort of his teeth grating against the cold surface, he neatly hooked the sliver onto one of his claws. He repeated this several times, until he was wearing a pair of second talons-the outside pair made of stone, and so sharp it felt as though you could puncture your eye by simply looking at the edge.<br>The tom-cat stood up, and retracted his claws. The stones were thin enough to slide partially into the fur and skin following the original clawset, but the tips still stuck out.  
>It didn't really matter. It wouldn't do any harm.<p>

Now that his new talons were fixed, the cat flicked his tail in anticipation and stepped deeper into the burrow. The first few fox-lengths were confined and rather airless; the cat felt his whiskers twitch uncomfortably as they were bent against the narrow walls. He hated this part of the journey most of all, but it didn't last long. Within a few minutes he was rolling his shoulders in quite a large space, and the air was slightly fresher.  
>The tunnel that the tom-cat was travelling down was a secret known only to him and one other animal. The place where it eventually led to was not.<br>But first, the other animal. The cat picked up its repugnant scent easily. If there had been even a trace of light in the darkness he would also have seen the white patches on its cheeks and the glinting of its razor-sharp teeth. But he felt no fear.  
>The badger swung its head towards him as he padded closer, and he could feel its hostility like thorns. A growl rumbled through the shadows; a warning if ever he'd heard one. The badger was only refraining from attacking because it had met him here many times, and had grown accustomed to his presence.<br>It was a mistake, and one that he'd planned to take full advantage of. Carefully, keeping his distance from the brute, he shuffled to the side of the wall, feeling with his whiskers for an open space in the side of the tunnel. That was what he had always done whenever he'd met the badger. There were many such tunnels in these lands. The tom always found it amusing that for all their high-and-mighty ways, the vast majority of Clan cats had no idea of the underworld beneath their feet. He had explored most of it and knew that the tunnels formed a vast network that had openings in every Clan territory. The one he was brushing up against would lead him to a large cave with a small opening in the roof. It was said that spirits of lost cats rested there. The tom had never seen or smelt any such thing, but you couldn't be too careful. He would go another way.  
>The badger, satisfied that he was moving on, began to take a few ponderous steps down the original tunnel.<br>_Three. Two…One…  
>….NOW!<em>

__The cat leaped forwards, his talons of stone outstretched, as he lunged for the beast. It let out a roar of confusion and anger, but the confined tunnel prevented it from whirling around and snapping his spine. With a battle yowl he raked his reinforced claws down the side of its head.  
>If they had been normal cat claws, made out of the same material as his fur, it would have done practically nothing. But his new extensions tore open the badger's flesh and filled the stale tunnel with the scent of blood.<br>The badger screamed again and swiped at him, but he was too fast. Again and again his claws flashed, and each time they ripped through fur and muscle. It was gloriously easy, feeling the supreme satisfaction of stone grating against bone, and the scent of the badger-a cat's worst nightmare-ripe with fear and pain. He slashed its legs, side, chest-and was never touched. He was too fast, as though his veins ran with wind instead of blood. It was working, _it was working-_much better than he'd ever dreamed of.  
>Without warning the badger swung around, baring its back to him and taking off. Caught by surprise, he stumbled forwards, falling embarrassingly on his face. "By the light of StarClan!" he spat in frustration, before swiftly running after the badger down the tunnel.<br>He shouldn't have been surprised. Just because his attack had been much more effective than he'd dared hoped didn't mean that the rest of his plan was unnecessary. He caught up to the badger quickly, but now the tunnel had grown narrow again, and it was working against him. He didn't have the room to attack the beast and keep out of its range at the same time. Once again, he'd thought of this. In fact, he'd planned for every possibility. He didn't bother trying to fight-he just kept on its heels, making mock swipes with his paws to keep it on the retreat.

All of a sudden they burst into a silent night, where the sky was just beginning to turn a bleak grey to herald the arrival of the sun. He smelt the clogging scent of ThunderClan burning his nose, and trees furry with soft growth nodded in a slight breeze. The badger continued to stamp through the forest, and the tom-cat slowed his pace. No need to run anymore. Just to wait until it tired out, then finish the poor creature off.  
>He was even considering the possibility of returning home when a yowl split the cool air. The tom-cat's eyes widened. What was another cat doing here? Without stopping to think he leaped after the badger and nearly fell over it, crouched beside a tree-log, tossing its head and snarling at a tortoiseshell she-cat.<br>When she caught sight of him her mouth fell open. "You? What are you doing here? Aren't you-"  
>A roar from the badger made her jerk her head away from him, and she fell into a fighting crouch. "Quick, get beside me," she hissed. "It's hurt. Shouldn't be too difficult."<br>_Sorreltail. That's her name.  
><em>"I don't think so," he told her calmly. "I'd rather watch and see what happens."  
>Her eyes flashed. "Do you have crowfood for brains? I don't care that you crossed our border right now!"<br>The tom stepped back. "All yours," he murmured. "Go on. I don't want your glory."  
>She stared at him, the truth hitting her. "You little piece of-"<br>_Grr-ROAR!_ The badger seized its desperate chance, lunging forwards and catching her in the side with its powerful claws. For all its injuries, it was still a mighty opponent, and she screeched in pain. Turning around, she leaped at her foe, her fur bristling.

The tom took a few more steps back. For all his apparent calm demeanour his heart was pounding like the hooves of horses, still fuelled by adrenaline and the fact that _there wasn't supposed to be a cat. _He had not planned for it, and now she was there-  
>He had no real desire to watch a she-cat be torn to pieces, but had to admit, she was fighting well, holding her ground and even forcing the badger to give way. Finally, after both of them were drenched in their own blood and staggering from heavy wounds, the badger stumbled away from them. It would later clamber back through the tunnels and into RiverClan territory, where it would finally meet its doom under a shroud of warriors.<br>Sorreltail nearly collapsed, her legs barely able to hold her upright. She coughed, red spittle flying from her jaws. "You." she wheezed. "I'm going to kill you."  
>A warrior to the last.<br>"Sorry," was all he said.

It was a quick and easy kill. She had nothing left to fight him with, and barely resisted when he pushed her to the ground and bit through her spine. She struggled weakly as froth flowed from her muzzle, but after a few heartbeats she lay still, and the dawn was silent once more.  
>He took her body-small and limp in the throes of death-and began to drag her along the forest floor, tugging her until they both came to rest at the shores of the lake. He had intended to throw her in, but realized that it would not really have a purpose.<br>He looked behind him. Her scent, and the smell of blood, would hide his own, but if he were to try and find the tunnels he would leave a clear and definite trail. He looked at the lake surface, paused, then plunged in, striking out with his strong paws and heading back to his own territory.  
>The rippling lake water washing the blood from his mighty stone claws.<p>

_Some Suns Later, Present Day  
><em>

Jayfeather's heart was throbbing painfully and his breath was coming quickly as he scrambled down the entrance into the stone hollow. "Firestar! Firestar!"  
>"He's in his den," Sandstorm informed him from by the fresh-kill pile. On the outside, she appeared to be quite calm, but a cat who knew her well would notice the way her pelt hung over her bones, and the darkness in her leaf-green eyes.<br>Jayfeather was in no mood to be sympathetic. He leaped up the Highledge like a sighted cat and pushed his way into Firestar's den.  
>"J-Jayfeather." Now the ThunderClan medicine cat did let himself feel a stab of pity. The ginger tom had transformed in the space of a few suns. Once a lean and sleek warrior, he now seemed older than the Sky Oak. His orange fur lay matted and unkempt, like he could not be bothered to wash himself. But worst of all was the swelling mass around his foot, distorting his paw until it was almost impossible to even see his pads. A rank smell of decay and disease wafted through the air, and Jayfeather had to dig his claws into the floor of the den to prevent himself from fleeing.<br>Few cats entered Firestar's den anymore. But he never left it. Walking was very difficult for him now, as his limbs could shudder and give way at any moment. Resting his weight on his diseased paw was agonizing. But worst of all was his voice; halting and stuttering at random periods. Jayfeather dreaded the next Gathering, and he was certain the rest of the Clan did too.

"W-w-what do y-you want, J-Jayfeather?" repeated Firestar, and Jayfeather braced himself. Firestar was growing increasingly erratic. Whether it was due to frustration as his body failed, or another dark symptom of the mass on his paw, Jayfeather didn't know, but it was wise to be careful.  
>"Firestar," he began uncertainly. "I went to the place where Sorreltail's body was found, and I decided to follow her trail."<br>The ThunderClan leader looked at him. "A-and?"  
>"It lead into a clearing, quite far away from where we found, and I also picked up the scent of badger."<br>"S-so? We kn-knew that alre-already."  
>"Yes, but I wondered how the badger got into our territory without the patrols picking it up. So I followed the badger's scent tracks, and it led to a burrow that became a tunnel."<br>At last Firestar looked interested. "A t-tunnel?"  
>"Yes. And there was another scent in the tunnel, too. The scent of a cat. I think he's the one who killed Sorreltail."<br>Firestar stared at him intently. "Who i-is it, J-Jayfeather?"  
>Jayfeather hesitated once more, then leaned forwards to whisper the answer into Firestar's ear.<br>And as he heard, the ginger tom's green eyes darkened with rage to match Jayfeather's own.


	13. Chapter 12: The Birth of the Sun

A powerful yowl broke the lazy afternoon heat.  
>"<em>Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey meet before me for a meeting!"<br>_"How original," muttered Hollyleaf, climbing to her paws where she had been previously sharing tongues with Saffron. He inclined his head to her. "Doesn't Lionblaze understand that these cats need to rest?"  
>His mate shrugged her shoulders, and he followed her as they padded over to the tom.<br>His golden tabby pelt shining in the bright sunlight, Lionblaze looked just like a smaller version of his namesake, complete with a slight ruff of fur around his neck. He was an imposing figure in most occasions, but next to the exhausted and wounded Clan cats, he looked magnificent. As though a cat from the old stories had stepped down onto the mortal lands, Saffron had told Hollyleaf when they'd finally caught up to him.  
>She said that he wasn't far wrong.<p>

It hadn't been exactly difficult to find Lionblaze, but the tom had shown more common sense than they'd credited him with earlier. He had taken his devastated cats to perhaps the safest place in the area. It was a grassy hill, quite high up, but with a gentle enough slope that even a three-legged cat could climb-which, as it happened, was necessary. Thick shrubs provided protection from the sometimes-chilly wind that nipped at their fur, but didn't obscure a clear view from the horizon. There wasn't any water on top of the hill, but at the base there was a clean pond, and Lionblaze had spent his time between dashing up and down the hill with soaked moss and prey. At that time, watching with Hollyleaf and Willowshine, Saffron found himself almost liking the tom. Then, when they had decided to reveal their presence, the ThunderClan warrior had promptly returned to his old self.

It was the other cats that Saffron was most worried about. Their chances of survival had been boosted considerably with Willowshine's arrival, but every single one of them was injured, and badly. The worst of all was Reedwhisker, the only surviving deputy. He'd had the misfortune to face Mantine, and the enemy leader had literally torn him to pieces. Both his ears had been ripped in half. A third of his face had been scooped out by a cruel paw, and the end part of his tail had been bitten off.  
>But the worst of his injuries was his hind leg, which was no more than a ghastly stump that steadily oozed blood despite Willowshine's best efforts. How he had survived, nobody would ever know.<br>Reedwhisker would never be a warrior again, not with injuries on his scale. All the Clan cats (excluding Lionblaze) had serious injuries but they were likely to recover fully with rest, food and treatment.

Lionblaze was speaking.  
>"Cats of the Clans," –he glanced at Hollyleaf and Saffron-"and others, I've been thinking, and I've made a decision."<br>He looked around for a few moments as though expecting the other cats to challenge him. Nobody did, not even Reedwhisker, though Saffron wasn't sure if he even knew who was talking. Hollyleaf only twitched her tail slightly.  
>Lionblaze cleared his throat and seemed relieved. "I've decided on two things. Firstly, we were sent out on a task-to find the wolf, escort it to the Clans, and sacrifice it. So far, we have yet to succeed." He paused, just for a second, and his amber eyes scanned the ranks of injured warriors.<br>"But misfortune is not an excuse! StarClan entrusted us with a sacred task. They have asked for loyalty and courage in its truest forms, and I believe every cat here has those qualities. We knew it wasn't going to be easy, but we accepted, and we owe it to the warrior code to bring the wolf back. The Clans will starve to death without us."

One of the warriors who was not as badly hurt as the others, Thornclaw, raised his golden-brown head. "You want us to track the wolf down." It was a statement, not a question.  
>Lionblaze nodded. "I do. I think…this is our destiny." His paws stirred on the grass as though he were running.<br>"And the other thing?" asked Willowshine, her head tipped in curiosity. "You said two decisions."  
>The mighty tabby dipped his head to the medicine cat apprentice. "That's right. Well, if we agree to hunt the wolf, then we will need to be loyal. Not just to our Clans-but to each other. We can't have any boundaries between us.<br>"And so, I propose that today a new Clan be formed. A Clan made only of the bravest and truest cats. We will guard these lands while StarClan sleeps-during the day, when Silverpelt is hidden to our eyes. All Clans will look up to us, for we will be the keepers of the peace and the watchers of the stars!" His last words soared into a yowl.

Stunned silence echoed across the hill as most cats froze in shock. Hollyleaf's mouth was open. Willowshine's head was still tilted. Even Reedwhisker had stopped cleaning himself mid-lick. Only Saffron, unable to really understand the weight of Lionblaze's words, continued to move, checking each face with more than a little amusement.  
>"A new Clan?" Tawnypelt sounded bewildered. "Can you do that? Without StarClan's approval?"<br>Lionblaze shook his head. "We are _for _StarClan. Don't you think that if they didn't want us to do this they would send us a sign?"  
>Saffron shrugged his shoulders. "A group of cats working together for one goal. Sounds like a Clan to me."<br>"You're a loner." Saffron didn't know the name of the cat who spoke out. "You don't really get it."  
>Hollyleaf bristled, and in the haughty voice of Leaf she pronounced, "We understand well enough to know that a Clan is a group of cats who follow the warrior code and the words of your ancestors."<br>A murmur broke among the Clan cats, and a broad-shouldered tabby tom stepped upwards, dragging a wounded leg. "Let's have a vote," he mewed. "All in favour of the new Clan, go to the left. All against, go right."

For a while nobody moved. Then, like a small stream, one cat stepped left. The stream became a torrent as cats bowed their heads to the majority and followed each other like sheep. When the movement settled, only two cats remained; Reedwhisker, sitting in the middle, attempting to groomhis blood-stained fur, and Thornclaw, standing to the right, looking up with defiant eyes. "I'm loyal to ThunderClan," he said by way of explanation, "not you, Lionblaze."  
>For a brief moment Lionblaze appeared angry, but Willowshine stepped forwards. "That's okay," she mewed. "We need someone to escort Reedwhisker back."<br>The anger faded from Lionblaze's eyes and he nodded. "And to tell the Clan what's happened. Well, goodbye, Thornclaw."  
>Thornclaw looked puzzled. "You want me to leave now? Is Reedwhisker strong enough?"<br>Willowshine sighed. "No, not really. But he won't get any stronger here, not without proper herbs and cobwebs to stop the bleeding. I've had to make do with leaves and moss. You'll just have to be careful."  
>Thornclaw considered this briefly, then nodded reluctantly and nudged Reedwhisker. The black tom stared at him blankly.<br>"Come on, Reedwhisker," he mewed kindly. "It's time to go."

After an age, the RiverClan deputy climbed to his three good paws, his weight tipping from shoulder to hip in a sad attempt to balance himself. His amber eyes were empty of emotion, and Saffron shuddered. He'd seen this in cats before-cats who seemed to have their spirits torn like their flesh; cats who simply lost interest in living. He hoped for Reedwhisker's sake that he found something worth surviving for, otherwise the tom's remaining days could be counted on a paw.  
>The new Clan watched as Thornclaw padded behind Reedwhisker, consistently nosing him to keep him moving forwards. They watched and waited for the two toms to become small specks on the world spread beneath them, before turning back to Lionblaze.<br>He coughed and twitched his tail. "Well, now, we need to decide who is going to become leader of this new Clan."

"I should have thought that was obvious," said a pretty tabby she-cat with smoky blue eyes. Lionblaze avoided looking at her and glanced around at the gathered warriors, and, when there were a few heads nodded in agreement, he seemed to swell up in size. "Thank you. I swear by StarClan that I will do my best to capture the beast and complete our task."  
>"Who is going to be deputy?" asked a RiverClan warrior, his thoughts clearly clouded by memory.<br>Lionblaze lifted his head upwards and thought.  
>"I say these words before StarClan," he mewed tentatively, and suddenly Saffron felt a rush of helpless pity. Even though Lionblaze had obviously planned this, the tabby had bitten off more than he could chew, and Saffron felt sorry for him.<p>

"May they hear and approve my choice," said Lionblaze softly. His gaze raked the Clan cats.  
>"Tigerheart will be the new deputy of…of this Clan."<br>"Tigerheart! Tigerheart!" mewed the gathered cats enthusiastically, and Saffron noted that the new deputy was the dark tabby who had suggested a vote. He felt a little better at this. At least Lionblaze would have an intelligent right paw.  
>Tawnypelt flicked her ears. "What is this new Clan called, anyway?" she asked. Her green eyes were flickering with both light and shadow, and Saffron remembered that the dead ginger tom, Rowanclaw, had been her mate. Tigerheart also happened to be her son.<br>Lionblaze thought for a moment, and shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted.  
>Hollyleaf stepped forwards. "If you like," she mewed easily, "I'd say that this Clan should be called SunClan. After all, you said it yourself-you watch the Clans while the stars sleep."<br>"Yes! SunClan! SunClan!" The warriors took up the cry.  
>"Then SunClan we are," purred Lionblaze. "Tonight, we rest-tomorrow, we march!"<p> 


	14. Chapter 13: Eyes in the Night

**Apologies for the chapter mix-up previously-picked the wrong document to enter as a chapter :)**

Waterfall, daughter of Mistystar, felt a cold knot of apprehension settle into her stomach. She'd dodged the sentry-not always an easy thing to do- and crept like a criminal across her territory, keeping her ears pricked for a sleepless RiverClan warrior. In her mouth she carried a large fish, carefully filched from the RiverClan fresh-kill pile.  
>The atmosphere in RiverClan-in all the Clans-was tense and frightened. Something had gone wrong. Reedwhisker and the other Clan cats should have been back days ago; glowing with triumph and dragging a wolf behind them. At first, cats had waved off their fears. A delay or two was to be expected when you were escorting one of the deadliest predators in the cat world. But after more than a week even the most optimistic of cats were struggling to keep their hopes high.<p>

Waterfall's eyes darkened as she thought of her mother. Waterfall had not been particularly close to any of her siblings, who had mocked and teased her mercilessly for her strange fancies and daydreams. When they were too old for such kittish antics, they had poured their bullying ways into pure exclusion. Waterfall became nameless in their presence; at Gatherings, cats were always surprised to learn that Mistystar was her mother, despite the fact that she alone had inherited her glittering blue-grey coat. If Reedwhisker was dead, she doubted that she would grieve.  
>But Mistystar had loved all her kits equally. She had guided them through their apprenticeships, listened to their unique troubles with sympathetic ears, and always gave them a tip or two when they struggled with a difficult skill. When they took their warrior names her eyes had burned with pride for a quarter-moon.<p>

There is a strange feeling in the world that has yet to be named, a sort of resentful disappointment, and in this case, both mother and daughter shared it. Mistystar was clearly disappointed in her daughter, who lacked the concentration required to hunt or fish successfully, who could not bring herself to inflict wounds on other hunters, and had no patience for tradition. Waterfall, in turn, felt the loss of her mother's affection and pride like a gaping hole in her heart.  
>She never knew her father; Mistystar had told no-one, except maybe the tom himself. Waterfall had always just assumed that it was a tom who thought he had a duty to the Clan. Sometimes she studied her reflection in the river, searching for some feature that she could link to a name, but the difficulty with a Clan was that everyone was related to everyone, in one way or another. When outsiders joined, or a cat took a mate from another Clan, there was little more than a stir in the stream of resemblance. Waterfall was the grandchild of such a mating, but she looked just as pure a RiverClan cat as any.<p>

A growl shook the air, and Waterfall felt a shudder run down her spine as she padded towards the base of a thick tree. It was not in RiverClan territory, but in a marshy area beyond it, where the land was too prey-poor to be worth the work of patrolling and marking.  
>Where the tree bark met soggy soil there was a thick snarl of roots forming a makeshift den. Inside, it waited.<br>"I'm here," Waterfall said, trying to steady her voice. "I brought food."  
>"I can see that, small one."<p>

A shadow flitted through the roots of the tree and came to rest in front of her. Its fur was as black as the darkness surrounding; its amber eyes shone a yellow-green gleam in night vision. Waterfall could feel its hot breath beating against her face, and dropped the fish, before taking a few steps back.  
>The wolf was a young male, and badly injured. His leg had been caught in a Twoleg trap. For some strange reason, once the Twoleg had seen its prize, it had released him and tried to take him into its monster-though the wolf had a different name for it, machine-but he had struggled so violently the Twoleg had been forced to release him. The wolf had limped through the trees, searching for a safe place to heal, and had found Waterfall.<p>

If Waterfall had a choice, she would have chosen to become a medicine cat. She had been interested in the ways of herbs from kithood, but fear of disappointing her mother had been stronger, and she'd held her tongue. Many times she had wished she'd done differently.  
>The wolf's name was Chénmò.<br>He was healing swiftly, but had yet to show any inclination of leaving. Waterfall had never asked him why. In fact, she hoped he would stay. He was the closest thing to a friend she'd ever had. A pity he treated her as though she was worse than dirt.  
>"Still no signs of your pack-sibling, then, little cat?" Chénmò said, his yellow eyes glinting. He knew all about the wolf patrol, but had yet to offer any opinions on the matter.<br>"No." She could not meet his gaze. "Eat your fish."

"I grow weary of fish. Their blood is cold and slimy. I prefer warm prey."  
>"Fish is all you get. There's nothing else."<br>He dipped his head and studied her intently for a long moment.  
>"What?" Waterfall mewed, feeling the slightest note of unease.<br>"Why do you not fear me?"  
>"Why should I be scared of you?"<br>Without warning, the wolf rushed forwards, faster than sight or hearing, knocked her sideways with a paw, and pinned her to the ground, his weight crushing her ribs. Waterfall froze, her heart pounding, but oddly, she felt more exhilarated than terrified.

She found her voice. "I'm not afraid of you because I know you won't kill me. I saved your life."  
>Chénmò blinked. "I would destroy you if I could. You are food. Cats have always been wolf-prey. You were made for our sport and feasting. Yet I am a wolf of honour and yes, you have helped me, and therefore I shall let you live."<br>"Why are you like this?" she managed to choke. "You weren't before."  
>"You are my enemy, Waterfall. You think of me as a friend, your only friend. I can smell your desire on your fur. But I am no pet. I am a wolf, and a wolf serves no creature but the alphas of the pack. Find another playmate, and begone." He lifted his paw and stepped back, and Waterfall scrambled to her paws in relief.<p>

"Can't we work together? Your kind, and mine? Together we could rule the world."  
>The wolf chuckled. "You have nothing to offer us, little one. You are cats. In all ways, you are small, limited, pathetic."<br>"No, we are not. We are just as smart as you, in our own ways."  
>"I do not believe that, and neither do you."<br>_Great StarClan! How does he know?_  
>"We aren't perfect," Waterfall mewed, digging her claws into the earth to hide her shock, "but I bet that your kind isn't either. We could fill in each other's gaps, make our species better as a whole."<br>Chénmò laughed again. "You naivety is amusing. The wolves would no sooner accept cats as equals as you would fish. You wish to be special, Waterfall of RiverClan? Do so in another way. I am weary of this."

"You stayed," Waterfall insisted. "You could have left suns ago, but you stayed."  
>Chénmò met her eyes. "There is no reason for me to leave. My leg has not fully healed. It is well enough for me to travel, but my pack would not accept me back into their ranks unless it were capable of standing up to a hunt or a border fight. Which it is not. I stay because there is no place for me to go."<br>Waterfall knew she was losing the argument, and began to back away slightly, but continued to speak.  
>"I will care for you until you are strong enough to leave and find your own pack."<br>The wolf bared his teeth in a hunter's smile. "Then, in that case, I wish for warm-blooded prey, little one."


	15. Chapter 14: First Blood

"The trail's strong now," reported Saffron, his ears flicking, the only sign of his unease.  
>Beside him, Lionblaze's tail became erect, and his amber eyes sparkled. He opened his mouth to inhale the scent. "I don't smell any difference."<br>"You've been in too many fights," mewed Saffron, admiring despite himself the scar tissue criss-crossing the tom's nose. "After being bashed in the face a certain number of times, you tend to lose a bit of your sense of smell."  
>Willowshine, who had never been bashed in the face, or at least not that she'd been aware of, lowered her head to the ground. "He's right. They're a half-hour away, at most."<br>"The to-be is still with it?" said Tigerheart, who had been scanning the thick trees around them ever since the wolf's strong musk had become fresh. 'SunClan' had been tracking the wolf for some days, and were now so close that even the bravest of warriors were starting to lose their nerve.  
>"Rabbit is still there," confirmed Willowshine, who knew his scent better than the two mercenaries.<br>Tigerheart gave a grunt of surprise. "Would have thought he'd been eaten by now."

"Every beast likes to save a bit of food for later on," muttered another warrior. Saffron looked at her. He knew all their names by now, but he was having difficulty attaching them to faces. He'd been a loner all his life and had never been in possession of a great memory for names. It was either Heathertail or Petalfur, he knew that much.  
>Hollyleaf sniffed the ground. "There's something else, too…" She wrinkled her nose. "Cats? Cats. Not with the wolf, just following from behind."<br>Tawnypelt looked uneasy. "More rogues?"  
>"There is a group who roams these woods," confirmed Saffron. "Only dangerous if you're alone, though."<br>Lionblaze shrugged his massive shoulders. "If we find them, maybe they'll help us."  
>"Not if these are the rogues I think they are," Saffron said with a shake of his head.<p>

Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream awoke to an intense pain in his skull.  
>His first thoughts were that Matilda had finally regained her memory and decided to kill him. But if that was the case, why did he still hurt? Where were his ancestors? The forest looked exactly the same as the one he'd been pacing at by her side.<br>His own memory began to slide back into his battered brain. He had left the she-wolf to seek out the tempting scent of a herb he didn't know. Then he had smelt the other cats, their rotting odour drifting into his nose like living crowfood. There had been many, all small and skinny, with broken teeth and matted fur. Despite their poor health, they had attacked with swiftness. He'd had no time to react or cry for help before his head was slammed into a tree, over and over…  
>He felt sand beneath his paws. A den. The brutes had imprisoned him in a den.<br>A grating croak that reminded Rabbit of claws on stone rasped through the air.  
>"Look a' that. Th' kitten stirs."<p>

A leering face loomed at the mouth of the den. "Yep, e's awake. 'Ey there, li'lle kitten! Wot yer think ye'd be a-doin' now, strollin' around our part o' the forest like yer own the blinkin' thing?" His accent was so thick and strange Rabbit could barely understand him. He opened his mouth to respond, to correct the mangy cat on several points, but before he could make a sound another one interrupted him.  
>He'd heard it before. Deeper than last time, and strangely throbbing. A touch of irritation laced the words.<br>_Little cat Rabbit, where are you?  
><em>The rogues all jerked as one and their heads swivelled in all directions as they tried to locate the source of the sound.  
>"By the 'eather, wot's that?" whispered a she-cat, her shoulders trembling.<br>An older tom, in slightly better condition than the others, bared his yellow fangs. "Dat be a wolf, friends, an' a big one too. Ain't been no wolves 'round here since I were a kitten."  
>"It wos askin' for a cat," whispered the she-cat, and looked at Rabbit.<br>"Yeah, me." Rabbit could speak more boldly now that they were afraid. "And if you hurt me, she'll come after you." He had no guarantee of that. But he scrambled out of the den and yowled as loud as he could, "Here, Matilda! I'm here! Some cats have taken me prisoner!"  
>Her howl came back, strong as the mountain waterfall.<p>

_An ambush? Befitting for your cowardly kind. Wait there, little one. I will find you and make them regret their actions.  
><em>The rogue cats looked at each other with horror. "Scatter!" snarled the old tom, and they turned to run.  
>They were too late. Matilda padded into their clearing, looking around with contempt and disgust. Her eyes rested on each cat for a moment. Fear had taken a hold of their limbs, and Rabbit wondered if they were even still breathing.<br>Matilda stepped to the tom who had been guarding Rabbit's hole, and leaned over him. The to-be realized how small and pathetic the cat looked beneath her. The tom had eyes the size of the moon and he was shaking so hard it was a wonder he could stand. Rabbit wrinkled his nose at the scent of urine.  
>Her mouth stretched into a wolf's grin, and she pounced, her paws shoving him to the ground beneath her as her jaws snapped over his head. The cat managed one piteous squeal before his head detached, and the clearing exploded as cats regained mobility and fled for their lives. Matilda let out a war-howl, and plunged into the trees after them, her claws ripping through a rogue even as she leaped past. Rabbit pressed a shaking paw to his face and clambered back into the den. He had seen many horrific injuries in his training as a healer. But not decapitation, and not cats being literally torn in half.<br>And as screams echoed through the trees, as blood from the rogue's head stained the sandy burrow and brought a bitter reek to his nose, Rabbit did nothing but be violently sick several times before crawling even further away and shoving his face to the ground.  
><em>One day, that will be me.<em>

"StarClan help us! What is that?" demanded Tigerheart, his ears flat against his head. Screams of agony and terror were shredding the once-silent forests, and the air seemed clouded with fear-scent and blood. Every now and again a deep snarling could be heard, usually right before another shriek.  
>One last pitiful whimper-seeming very close-and then a new sound. A sound that pierced the clouds above their heads and shook the earth beneath their paws. A howl of vengeance and glory, of a thousand battles fought and won, of prey squealing for mercy at its conqueror's feet.<br>"The wolf." Lionblaze's voice was very low and hushed. "It must be…"  
>Hollyleaf was shaking, but she managed a weak smile. "Well, then, SunClan, looks like this territory's up for offer now."<br>Saffron shook his head. "There were nearly fifteen cats in this band last time I checked. The wolf killed them all?"  
>Tawnypelt pushed her way through the shrubs. "Not all, at least, not yet. Come here."<p>

They crowded beside her uneasily, the cloying scent of fear biting their scent glands. Before them lay a emaciated she-cat, her fur so soaked with blood the pelt colour was impossible to detect. Deep tears in her sides exposed not only her ribs but also her intestines. Hollyleaf gagged on her tongue.  
>Willowshine, though shaken, was more used to gristly sights. She crouched before the dying rogue.<br>"Did the wolf do this?" she asked softly.  
>The rogue cat nodded her head up and down.<br>"Was…was there a cat with the wolf?"  
>The she-cat tried and failed to take a breath of air. "Cort the poor mousebrain. What was we s'possed t' do? 'E were a-trespassing on our land. 'E 'ad no right t' set 'is monster on us…"<p>

It was the last words she would ever speak. Oxygen bubbled through her nostrils in a final desperate release, and the light faded from her haunted eyes.  
>After a few second in silence, Tigerheart was the first to rouse himself. "That's it. Let's go home."<br>Lionblaze looked bewildered. "Home? What for?"  
>Tigerheart stared at his leader. "Come on, Lionblaze, admit it. We can't fight this thing. We can't control it or take it anywhere. It just ripped a whole Clan to pieces. There's nothing we can do except go home and hope StarClan will understand."<br>Lionblaze continued to give him a puzzled stare, when Willowshine spoke. "I agree with Lionblaze, but not about catching the wolf. Tigerheart's right, it's beyond control. But there's Rabbit. He's still alive. We need to find him and save him."

"We told Stoneteller that his cats weren't our responsibility," mewed Harespring with a surprising lack of emotion. "We can just say he was already dead."  
>Saffron shook his head. "Heartless cowards, the lot of you! He's barely more than a kit. Imagine how scared he must be. Could you face your families knowing you abandoned a helpless cat to die?"<br>"If we help him," said Tigerheart, "will we even see our families again?"  
>"Does it matter? The warrior code says we must help kits in trouble no matter what the cost," said Tawnypelt with steely eyes. At the mention of this, some spine went back into the Clan cats, and they nodded.<br>"Onwards, then," said Lionblaze, and Saffron, Hollyleaf and Willowshine took the lead again, seeking out the scent of the little tom. It was difficult to find it under the smell of so much blood and death, but at last it wound up into a clearing.  
>This must have been the rogue cats' camp, because their scent was everywhere. Two bodies lay on the mossy floor, one beheaded. Hollyleaf sniffed the air. "He's here." She raised her mew. "Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream? It's us, the Clan cats. We've come to find you."<br>For a moment there was silence, then Rabbit crawled out of a hole in the ground somewhere.  
>"You came for me?" he said, his meow cracking in his shock and joy.<p>

"We would never have left you behind," said Tawnypelt, giving the other cats firm stares. They all muttered agreement.  
>Lionblaze stepped close to the little tom. "I must say, I'm impressed. Not many cats could keep alive in a wolf's company, especially after the herbs wore off."<br>"Herbs?" came a new voice. Quiet, but unmistakeable.  
>The silver she-wolf with the golden eyes.<br>Lionblaze turned his head like a hunter stalking prey. All the other cats stood rigid as she padded into the clearing, her muzzle and paws stained red. She met Lionblaze's gaze.  
>"What herbs?"<p>

Lionblaze bared his teeth in a snarl. "Wolf. Come here and fight me."  
>"Lionblaze, no!" gasped Tigerheart. Both wolf and warrior ignored him.<br>"What herbs?" repeated the wolf for the third time.  
>The golden tom let out a laugh. "Don't you know, brute? The herbs we shoved down your throat to keep you a tame sheep. I don't know how you learned to speak cat, and I don't care. I always wanted to be the one to kill you myself."<br>She cocked her head very slowly in thought. "You _believe_ that." It was a statement.  
>Lionblaze took a step forwards. "I have the power of the stars in my paws."<br>Matilda's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"I can fight entire wars without injury. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. I can spend a thousand nights in the coldest lands without freezing. I can kill you! I will!"  
>She took another step towards him until their faces were barely kitsteps apart. Fury and hatred began to radiate off her like heat.<br>"You pathetic little human plaything," she said coldly, despite her rage. "You dare to drug me? Then be prepared to face the consequences. I will eat your heart and then find your kin and slay them all. I know of your kind. You smell of the land that used to be wolf hunting-grounds. The land that will be ours again! Your death will be one of many to come." She took a step back and curled her lip. "Fight me then, little one, and we will see whether your tiny dots of sky-light will save you."  
>Lionblaze fell into a fighting crouch, and sprang.<p> 


	16. Chapter 15: It Begins

In the end, it was not really much of a contest at all.  
>Lionblaze pounced onto Matilda's back, where she twisted her body aside and rolled neatly to her paws. Lionblaze had to leap clear or risk being crushed like an ant by her massive weight. With a snarl he swiped at her face with his claws, but she was no longer there, dodging aside and lunging at him with a paw. He fell onto his back in evasion and kicked upwards with his hind legs. It was like trying to move a mountain, and his claws barely parted through her thick fur. The wolf let out a growl of irritation as she felt the small thorns prick her skin, and snapped downwards with her teeth. Her fangs closed down upon his head, but cats are more agile than wolves, and Lionblaze was already backing away, ears flattened, his face distorted by rage to match Matilda's own.<br>Hollyleaf would only remember what happened next in a series of flashes.

Lionblaze sinking his teeth into the wolf's ear-  
>Matilda throwing him off with kittish ease-<br>His head struck a rock, his limbs refusing to obey him-  
>The silver beast stalking towards him, hatred in every hair on her bristling pelt-<br>Gleaming white fangs-  
>A horrible crunching noise, a new cloud of sanguine-<br>And then Lionblaze was gone, flying into the trees, a horrible mewling noise echoing through the blood-stained air as he vanished into the shrub. Hollyleaf pricked her ears, but she heard nothing except the heavy breathing of the wolf and the cats around her.

Matilda turned her head to the Clan cats, her intention clear as she curled her lip. Hollyleaf jerked into action.  
>"<em>Climb! <em>Climb a tree! Wolves can't climb! Go!"  
>There was a tidal wave of movement as SunClan sprinted for the edge of the clearing. Matilda lunged for the cats, who scattered aside as they leaped for the nearest branch. The wolf let out a howl of frustration, standing on her hind legs and clawing at the bark of a tree that contained two terrified warriors, before landing back on all fours and swinging around to face her.<br>"Saffron! Come on!" she cried to her mate, extending her paws and pounding for the nearest tree. A desperate yowl stopped her in her tracks.  
>"<em>Hollyleaf!"<em>

In a moment that might have taken a second or a thousand seasons, she turned to meet her worst nightmare. Matilda had her beloved by the neck, her teeth cutting into the skin around his throat. Blood was already dribbling to the ground.  
>Hollyleaf may not have been one of the Three from the prophecy, but she had been gifted with intelligence, courage, logic, and above all else, quick thinking. She charged directly for the Tribe healer to-be, literally throwing him to the ground and pinning him there, her claws hooking into the fur above his neck.<p>

"Let Saffron go or I'll rip his throat out!" she screamed to the wolf, who froze. Saffron made a gurgling noise, his paws thrashing in an attempt to get air. Hollyleaf tightened her grip on Rabbit, who was shaking violently beneath her, babbling apologies and other things that she was deaf to. Her mind scrambled for another bargaining point, and found it.  
>"The Clan cats! I can tell you where the Clan cats live! You want to find them, right?"<br>It worked. Matilda dropped Saffron before trapping him to the ground with one paw.  
>"<em>Where are they? Where are the Clan cats?<em>" she demanded in a terrible voice that turned her spine to liquid. She shook her head and held her ground, and her prisoner.  
>"Let. Him. Go!"<p>

Matilda tilted her head back in savage fury. "I do not need you! The little cat has already told me they live by a lake."  
>"There are hundreds of lakes, wolf- kill us and you'll never find out which one!"<br>"Then I will search until the end of my days. Your flesh will sustain me on that journey!"  
>"WAIT!" she snarled, dragging Rabbit even closer to her, ignoring his squeal of terror. "Look at it this way, wolf! Kill him, and we both lose, because I'll lose my mate and you'll lose your slave or friend or keeper or whatever this cat is to you. Do things my way, and we both win! Saffron lives, and you'll know where the Clan cats are! Aren't wolves supposed to be <em>smart?<em>"  
>In another timeless moment, Matilda stared at her with her steely golden eyes, before slowly lifting her paw off of Saffron. Hollyleaf's shoulders slumped with relief and loosened her grip on Rabbit. "Sorry," she muttered to the little cat, who merely tucked his tail between his legs and slunk over to the wolf.<p>

She lifted her head to meet the beast's stare. "Where are the Clan cats?" Matilda said in a soft voice that was perhaps even worse than her rage. "Tell me now or die where you stand."  
>Hollyleaf forced her legs to stay firm. "They do live by a lake," she mewed, unable to keep a tremor out of her voice. "If you follow the rising sun through this forest then you'll come across a stream. Follow it downstream and it'll take you to where the Clan cats live."<br>For a moment the wolf merely stared into her eyes, as if judging what she saw there. Finally Matilda nodded and turned away. "Leave." she growled coldly before returning to Rabbit.  
>Hollyleaf dipped her head. "Saffron? Are you okay?"<br>"As well as I can be," he mewed, much to her relief. "What about you?" He padded over to her.  
>"I'm fine. Let's get out of here."<p>

"Right away," he agreed, and they padded into the trees together. For a while they didn't speak, until finally Hollyleaf mewed, "So, what now?"  
>"I don't know," he replied. "Shouldn't we try to warn the Clan cats? We could probably make it before they do." Hollyleaf did not ask who 'they' were.<br>Hollyleaf shook her head. "What's the point? They wouldn't believe us anyway."  
>"If we could find some of the SunClan cats…" he smiled and sighed. "SunClan! You were right, they're a bunch of mousebrains. We should never have stayed with them."<br>Her green eyes were serious. "I know. I'm sorry."  
>Saffron gave her a nudge. "It's all right. You were concerned for your brother." He looked up. "What happened to him?"<p>

"I guess he's dead," she mewed hesitantly. Saffron's blue eyes lighted on her. "Well, that' s not very optimistic."  
>Hollyleaf shrugged. "He took on a wolf. He deserved it."<br>"Those rogue cats ran for their lives, and died anyway. Did they deserve it?" When she did not answer, he rubbed his head against hers. "At least we should try and bury him."  
>The black she-cat nodded. "He'll probably be near that clearing. Let's hope the wolf's gone."<br>"I think she would. There's no reason to stay." Saffron took the lead, winding through the trees to approach the clearing from a roundabout angle. It was not the fastest route, but neither of them had any desire to see the two mutilated corpses again.

Soon Hollyleaf had a trace of her brother's scent, and followed it. She frowned. "That wolf must have thrown him further than we thought. This isn't close to the clearing."  
>"Or maybe…" Saffron began, but his suggestion was answered when they caught sight of the golden tabby staring at nothing, his amber eyes wild. Blood spattered his coat, and the two mercenaries caught a glimpse of bone in his hind leg.<br>Hollyleaf shifted. "He's alive. Let's go."  
>"He's hurt," argued Saffron, and padded over to the ThunderClan warrior.<br>"Lionblaze? It's me, Saffron. Remember me?"  
>A blank vagueness settled across the mighty warrior's face. "Saffron…?" he mewed dully. "What happened?"<p>

"You…you're hurt. You must have hit your head. Come on, we'll patch that leg up for you-"  
>"No. Where's the wolf?"<br>"It's gone, Lionblaze, we're all safe."  
>"Did I kill it?"<br>"…No, Lionblaze, remember? You lost. It threw you."  
>The big tom turned his amber gaze to meet Saffron's bright blue ones. He narrowed his eyes, and Hollyleaf felt a prickle run down her spine. She stepped forwards. "Saffron, come on, leave him…"<br>To little, too late.  
>With a bellow of anger Lionblaze swiped forwards, his claws catching in Saffron's throat. Saffron let out a cry of agony and bewilderment as the golden tom dragged him forwards.<br>"Lose? _I don't lose!_" he spat, before sinking his fangs into Saffron's neck and severing his spine.  
>Hollyleaf screamed.<br>"Saffron! _Saffron!"_

She leaped for him, rolling him onto his back with her paws, shaking him, calling his name, her tail quivering as she stroked his face. But he was lost to her, torn from her heart and released into a shadowy void she could never follow. "No-no-no!" she wailed.  
>She swung around to face Lionblaze. "You son of a <em>bitch<em>!" she shrieked. "He was helping you! _HE WAS HELPING YOU!_"  
>Lionblaze's teeth curled into a insane smile. "He was weak."<br>With a bellow of pain and loss she lunged for him, her claws ripping through his fur. Taken by surprise, her brother recovered quickly and swatted her aside. She skidded through the leafy soil and leaped to her paws.  
>He paced around her. "Come on, Leaf," he snarled through white teeth. "I'm injured. I'm alone. Finish me off."<br>Hollyleaf crouched again, but didn't move. _Kill him! You foxhearted coward, kill him! He killed Saffron!_

_And he'll kill me, _she realised with horror. _He may be injured, but if I fight him, I'll lose._  
>"What's the matter, rogue?" he chuckled. "Scared?"<br>Hollyleaf backed away. "No. Killing you here and now wouldn't be painful enough. I'm going to make you suffer. Watch you limp away and try and lead your pathetic life. You're a cripple now-you'll never be leader! But keep your eyes wide open, Lionblaze, because one day, when you're least expecting me, I'll be there. I'll rip your guts out and leave your head for the crows. You'll never sleep peacefully again!"  
>She turned and ran into the forest, ignoring the calls of "Coward!" behind her. She had no idea what to do now. There was an empty darkness in her heart. She needed a purpose. She needed something…<br>A scent drifted into her nose, and she stopped. Strong and fresh.  
>Hollyleaf looked up at the sky, and ran after the wolf.<p> 


	17. Chapter 16: Silent Justice

Firestar emerged from his den, his dull orange fur turning grey in the shaded afternoon light.  
>His green eyes, once sharp and clever, were now rheumy and bloodshot, as though he had not slept for suns. Indeed, slumber had been hard to come by. His leg, now completely immobile, woke him at all hours with strange sensations, although as of yet they were painless.<p>

But sickness was not the only thing that roused him from sleep. His heart twisted with grief at the thought of Squirrelflight. His beloved daughter. Dead. Gone forever. Thornclaw had stumbled into camp, his amber eyes shadowed with exhaustion and haunted with memory. He had told them the news. Squirrelflight and Spiderleg were dead, and Lionblaze had suddenly gone mad and decided he was a Clan leader. SunClan! What had possessed the young warrior? He wasn't experienced enough to lead a battle party, let alone control a Clan, even if it was only the tattered scraps of others. _Tigerstar would approve, _the ThunderClan leader thought dryly.

A wolf on the loose. From the way Thornclaw had told it, SunClan had gone in search of it, which was essentially suicide. Firestar had never met a wolf, but he had heard of them, and he had experienced first-paw the danger of a dog pack. Brightheart would forever bear the scars of them. Wolves were supposed to be _worse._  
><em>It's my fault, really, <em>Firestar thought to himself. _I should have sent Brambleclaw. Lionblaze and Squirrelflight would have listened to him._

And as if all this wasn't enough, there was the small matter of a murderer on the loose.  
>Firestar's eyes narrowed at the thought of him, and made a decision. He couldn't send a warrior out to knock some sense into Lionblaze, any more than he could raise Squirrelflight from the dead. But Sorreltail's killer was an issue he could solve. And he would do it now. Anything to resist against the apathy he was sinking into, swelling in his veins like the growing mass on his leg. Without asking himself if what he was doing was wise, especially as the cat in question was a strong warrior belonging to another Clan, he called for Brambleclaw. The tabby warrior padded out from his den, and Firestar limped over to meet him. The deputy seemed oddly small, hunched down by grief and worry. He had not spoken since Thornclaw's return except to organize patrols.<p>

"Br-Brambleclaw." The stutter was the worst thing, Firestar decided. Every time it happened cats would get an odd mixture of pity and horror on their faces. Brambleclaw merely dug his claws into the earth and inclined his head. "Yes?"

"I'm g-going on p-patrol." Firestar mewed through gritted teeth. Forcing himself to speak more slowly, which made him sound like an idiot but helped control the stutter, he continued, "It's been too long since I went out into the f-forest. I need to d-do something or I'll go m-mad."  
>Brambleclaw's amber eyes travelled down to his leg. Firestar managed a smile. "It d-doesn't hurt, you know. Just…unc-comfortable."<p>

The deputy tilted his head in thought, then shrugged. "As you wish, Firestar. Who do you want to take with you?"  
>Firestar hesitated. Who would he take? They had to be loyal cats. Ones that would never breathe a word of it to any soul. And ones that weren't as fiercly code-abiding as Brambleclaw.<br>"C-Cloudtail. And Poppyfrost."

Brambleclaw nodded again. "Okay. Do you want me to call them, or-"  
>"Yes, p-please, Brambleclaw. I n-need to speak with J-Jayfeather before I leave."<br>The deputy looked a little relieved. "Don't tire yourself out, Firestar, and don't go too far."  
>Firestar narrowed his eyes. "I am not a k-kit."<br>The tabby's face became expressionless once more. "Take care of yourself. The Clan still needs you."  
><em>He probably thinks I'm going to drown myself in the lake or something. I only hope he doesn't have me followed.<em>

__Firestar padded into the medicine den, his tail flicking with impatience. "Jayfeather!" he called out.  
>The grey tabby stepped neatly over to his leader. "Firestar. How are you feeling?" he mewed, a reasonably diplomatic way of asking if he was any worse. Once it became clear how serious Firestar's growth was, Jayfeather had tried increasingly odd combinations of herbs, all with no effect. They had considered cutting out the mass, as they did before, but after an apprentice searched through his leader's fur for ticks they had discovered that there were other growths already piercing through his skin.<p>

"Same as yestersun. C-could be better. B-but I'm not here to talk about me." He sat down. Jayfeather immediately understood what Firestar was getting at.  
>"You mean…him." They did not often speak the killer's name aloud. Which was odd, especially as the fact that he was capable of murder was not a surprise to them at all. Just another sad fact adding to a list that was almost too hard for the lake cats to bear.<br>Jayfeather sat down and sighed. "What _can_ we do, Firestar? Nobody would believe us if we accused him at a Gathering. His scent's faded from the burrow. We have no evidence except for the word of a blind medicine cat."

"T-there's the RiverClan cats. They m-met the badger. Saw the c-clawmarks."  
>"That's the most impossible bit about the story. A cat defeating a badger on his own?"<br>"I k-know. You're r-right. Which is why I'm not g-going to take it up at the Gathering. We'll p-punish him ourselves."

Jayfeather became oddly still. "That's…" he began.  
>Firestar cut in front of him. "W-we won't kill him. J-just give him a v-very clear message that w-we know w-what he's done. It'll still b-be j-justice, it just won't start a war."<br>Jayfeather hesitated. He said in a very quiet voice, "Firestar…he's my kin."

The ThunderClan leader sighed. "All cats choose the path they w-walk. B-blood means n-nothing when it comes t-to justice. W-would StarClan let an evil w-warrior into their dens just because h-he was related to them? Of c-course not," he mewed before Jayfeather could reply. "C-come or don't, Jayfeather, but it'll be b-better if you do."  
>The grey tabby nodded. "Sure. Fine. Let's go."<p>

Firestar assembled his features into one of annoyed resignation as he padded into the stone hollow with his medicine cat at his side. Cloudtail and Poppyfrost were waiting for him, their whiskers twitching with apprehension. Brambleclaw seemed relieved when Jayfeather announced that he would go with the ThunderClan leader to ensure there were no difficulties.  
>As the camp disappeared into the trees, Firestar quickly brought his warriors up to speed with the plan. As expected, Cloudtail nodded enthusiastically, while Poppyfrost's eyes hardened with determination.<p>

They approached the burrow of the forsaken badger, leading into the secret tunnel, and disappeared into it. Jayfeather led the way with confidence-light or darkness, both meant little to him-but Cloudtail and Poppyfrost were less happy with the enclosed space around them. Firestar merely limped silently along, his ears pricked for dangers.  
>Eventually they all emerged from the tunnel with relief and looked around. The new burrow they were in was surprisingly large and well-aired. Through the entrance the sweet scent of heather drifted through, and Firestar relaxed slightly. The burrow was really a perfect hiding spot-who would look for them here?<p>

_I need to remember this tunnel, _ he thought. _If there was another fire, it could be a bolthole across the stream.  
><em>"Hey, Firestar, Jayfeather," Cloudtail mewed uneasily. "What are these?"  
>At his paws lay a collection of strange objects. Firestar nudged them with a foot. They were shaped like perfect claws, feeling cold and sharp to his pads. Jayfeather touched them too, then sniffed. He nodded. "They're the attachments he used to kill Sorreltail and the badger."<br>Poppyfrost let out a cold hiss. For a moment Firestar thought she was expressing her anger, but then a new scent floated through the walls of the den. "Q-quickly," he muttered softly. "B-back into the t-tunnel."

His warriors nodded and edged backwards down into the yawning mouth of the circular shadows.  
>Firestar flicked his tail when he was certain that they would not be seen, and the four ThunderClan cats stopped.<br>There was absolute silence except for the heavy breathing of the warrior above them. His scent drifted towards them, laden with unease as he registered their own musk. Firestar felt the fur on his neck stand up. _Sorreltail's murderer. What luck!  
><em>"I know you're there!" came the deep voice of the tom as his pads rasped against the sandy floor. "Come out and face me!"

Before Firestar could say or do anything, Cloudtail and Poppyfrost had leaped forwards, Jayfeather on their paws. Cursing his slow reactions, the ginger tom limped after them.  
>The tom cat seemed bewildered by their presence, even though he had challenged them. Instead of galloping out of the burrow entrance and to safety, he lunged for the odd stone claws. Unfortunately for him, Cloudtail was already there, sweeping the claws into the tunnel with a back paw while grabbing hold of the killer with his front. Poppyfrost leaped onto his hindquarters, snarling fiercely. The tom lay still, his amber eyes bright with fear.<p>

"B-Breezepelt of WindClan," spat Firestar, rage heating his belly. "W-what do you h-have to say f-for yourself?"  
>Breezepelt hissed and bristled, a move that would look more intimidating if two large senior warriors had not been practically sitting on him. "I don't answer to cripples!"<br>Firestar raised a paw to strike him, but Jayfeather stopped him. "If we visibly hurt him, WindClan will know," the medicine cat whispered, but not quietly enough.

"That's right," sneered the WindClan warrior. "You lay a claw on me, and WindClan will be at war with you for generations." Despite his brash words, his paws were slippery with sweat.  
>Firestar leaned forwards. "I kn-know. So d-don't worry, th-there won't be m-marks. B-but you'll be in p-pain. More p-pain than in y-your entire l-life." He nodded to Jayfeather, who dropped the burden he had been carrying the whole trip. The grey tabby stepped forwards.<br>"Do you know what this is, Breezepelt?"  
>"Do I care?"<p>

"This is the fang of a snake. It killed one of our warriors, Honeyfern. There's not much poison left in it, but still plenty for this task, I think." Breezepelt's eyes were horrified. "Don't worry…brother…it won't kill you. It needs to get into your blood to do that. But it will still burn your skin. So if you don't answer us truthfully, we'll wash you with this." He took a few steps back and Firestar moved in again.  
>"D-did you kill Sorreltail?"<br>"No." Breezepelt said defiantly, but with more than a trace of terror.  
>Firestar clucked his tongue, and Jayfeather traced the snake fang across Breezepelt's side. The black tom screamed in agony as the venom seared his skin.<p>

"Did you kill S-Sorreltail?"  
>"Every Clan around the lake will wage war on you for this! Your own Clan will turn on you!"<br>"_Did you k-kill Sorreltail?"  
><em>"_Yes!"_  
>Firestar pushed Jayfeather gently away. "W-well, there's a start," he mewed, almost kindly. "W-why?"<p>

Breezepelt writhed. "I needed to-_argh-_test out my claws."  
>"Your cl-claws. How did y-you make them?"<br>"River stones, mostly, then I carved them from that-"  
>"W-what were you p-planning on d-doing with them?"<br>Breezepelt flashed him a furious glance, and the fang came down again.  
>"<em>Aaaah!<em> Please stop, please stop! I wanted to prove myself to the Clans, prove that I was better than all of them. I was testing them on the badger. I didn't mean to kill Sorreltail, I swear! She was just-in the way-"

Poppyfrost let out a screech of hatred and lunged for the tom, until Cloudtail pulled her back. "You-you-" she hissed.  
>Firestar leaned in. "W-was Sorreltail the only ThunderClan cat y-you killed?"<br>Breezepelt nodded repeatedly. "Only one, I swear by StarClan-"  
>Jayfeather interrupted him. "Don't you dare talk of StarClan, you murdering scum!" He dragged the venom across Breezepelt for a third time until the howls became unbearable.<br>"_Alright!" _ Firestar yowled. "Enough."

He leaned over Breezepelt. "G-go. Scramble b-back to your c-camp with tales of t-torture. No-one w-will believe you. B-because you're nothing t-to anyone. T-this is your p-punishment. And if my c-cats see you in our t-t-territory, we w-will rip your h-heart out. Y-you are outside the w-warrior code. It al-allows us to d-do this." He nodded to his two warriors. "L-let him go."  
>They did, reluctantly. The black tom climbed to his paws and shook dust off his pelt. He gave them all looks of searing hatred, but they met his gaze coldly. Finally he held his head up high and turned to his stone claws. Something in Cloudtail's eyes made him decided otherwise, and he padded out of the den entrance, and fled.<p> 


	18. Chapter 17: Hungry in the Dark

If an eagle had chosen to spread his mighty wings and take to the sky on one particular day, he might have seen a very strange sight.  
>If he had soared over the lofty peaks of the frigid mountains, made misty by the melting snow of newleaf, and swooped down over a desolate wood, he would have found himself gliding over a river, sludgy grey with ash and soot. Thin charred strands of charcoal-black trees stabbed at a sweet blue sky while the rest of the earth was dead and lost.<br>Three suns ago a group of young humans arrived with violent gifts of orange flame hidden safely from forest eyes. They had hoisted their strange dwellings and called the burning light to life, feeding it on twigs and leaves until the novelty of trees and deer seemed to wear off. They had kicked the fire into submission, burying it in its own waste, before felling their tents and climbing into their cars and driving away.

But the fire was still very much alive and all it needed was a strong breeze to kiss away the choking soot before it raged against the forest and reduced an entire world to ash and dust.  
>Though saddening, it would not be the burned wasteland that would shake the eagle, for these things were sadly common. The rains, which might have safeguarded the forest against such an occurrence, had yet to arrive. The whole stretch of land was silent and empty save the polluted river, wearily carrying its burden of destruction further downstream.<br>Empty of life except for three creatures who were tracking steadily by the river, and it would be this that would shatter the eagle's perception.

Leading the way was a silver she-wolf, very large for the standards of her kind, holding her tail and head high as she paced briskly ahead, her glittering fur obscured somewhat by the clouds of ash. Just behind her, padding at her heels, was a tiny brown-and-white tom-cat, who kept jerking his head back and forth.  
>And then, trailing several fox-lengths behind both of them, almost invisible in the dark earth, came a black she-cat. Her head was also held high as she walked on.<br>If the eagle had been of a mind to fly closer and observe this strange phenomenon, he might have noticed the way the small tom seemed to hunch in on himself, as though he feared the whole world might collapse around him. He would have noticed that though the black she-cat carried herself loftily, her strides were strangely small and uncertain. He would have seen the way the she-wolf's spine bristled every now and again and her tongue would flash out and clean her fangs.

But the bird would have to have been watching them for many suns to truly understand their thoughts and feelings. As Matilda led on, her heart burned with a kind of bloody violence that only the true wild predator could have a hope of understanding. Rabbit That Leaps Over Stream looked around himself and found only fear in every step he took; fear of the wolf who was his keeper; fear of the she-cat who had betrayed him; fear of this strange and broken world that his paws crushed into.  
>And Hollyleaf felt neither rage nor terror, though deep within her soul, vengeance burned like the dormant campfire. Her eyes and mind were shadowed with a blank darkness that she felt herself slowly slipping into. Only her quest held it at bay; her quest to destroy the Clans who had taken everything she had ever loved-her home, her family, her future, and now her mate. Whenever Rabbit or Matilda made a comment, she would often turn her head, searching for his warm golden presence to gauge his expression. But Saffron, just like Squirrelflight, Crowfeather, and Ashfur, were gone forever.<p>

When she had found the wolf's trail and caught up to them both, Hollyleaf had expected an inquisition, especially from Matilda, who had apparently made it clear that the self-exiled warrior would be eaten if they met again. But the she-wolf had said nothing. Indeed, it was almost as though she had expected Hollyleaf to find her. Matilda had merely asked quietly where Saffron was, and Hollyleaf's simple, two-word answer, had apparently been enough for her.  
>Rabbit was almost as scared of Hollyleaf as he was of the wolf, and she remembered with some guilt how she had threatened to kill him. No matter how many times she'd tried to apologize, he'd just give her a quick glance and find something else to do.<p>

Hollyleaf's stomach rumbled and she tilted her head upwards to scent the air. They had eaten nothing while inside the burned zone, which was nearly four suns now.  
>A deep yet lilting voice broke her skein of thought. "Hollyleaf," rumbled the she-wolf, "how far now?" She had slowed her pace to catch up with the black cat.<br>Hollyleaf thought quickly. There were no longer any landmarks to gauge their progress, but she knew more or less how far they'd come.  
>"Not far," she rasped, her green eyes fixed on the horizon. "Maybe three suns-two, if we walk quickly."<br>Matilda glanced at her. "How long does this burned land go on for? I have not eaten since I first awoke from the herbs, and I am hungry."  
>Hollyleaf shook her head. "I don't know. It's not usually like this. It's something the Twolegs have done."<br>"Twolegs?" The wolf wrinkled her nose.

"You don't know them?" Hollyleaf was puzzled. "They're big, tall creatures that walk on their hind legs. They have flat muzzles and no fur except for a patch on top of their heads…" she trailed off.  
>"Ah," said Matilda without expression. "Humans."<br>"Humans." Hollyleaf tasted the word on her tongue. "Is that what wolves call them?"  
>"It is what they call themselves, little one. Wolves know more of humans than cats do."<br>Even Rabbit looked up at this. "How?" asked Hollyleaf.  
>The silver beast walked on silently for a while, and Hollyleaf began to think she was not going to answer. But finally she spoke:<br>"Many, many seasons ago, wolves and humans were pack-mates. We showed them how to live in packs; in return they let us share their warmth and protected us from predators. Together we hunted the largest of animals-deer, boar, elk. It was a peaceful time, so peaceful that many wolves forgot what it meant to be truly wild and became tame."  
>Hollyleaf and Rabbit both shivered slightly. <em>Tame <em>was almost a taboo word among both Tribe and Clan. Both would have members who had forsaken their homes and joined Twolegs in search of food and shelter.

Not all Twoleg pets were tame, just as not all forest creatures were truly wild. Firestar had not been tame, although he was a kittypet and had grown relatively attached to them. But his heart had lay in the darkness outside his fence and he had wandered there almost as soon as he was able. His best friend Ravenpaw had not been wild, though he was Clanborn through and through, and had gravitated away from the Clans to live in a Twoleg barn. Then there were cats like Daisy and Cloudtail, who seemed to have paws in both worlds, regardless of what they might tell themselves.  
>Matilda was speaking again.<br>"They forgot the true meaning of the pack and how loyalty to your own kin comes above all else. For eventually a time would come when the humans themselves drifted away from their original ways and turned to violence and destruction. They are the greatest predators the world has ever seen; it is only right that they have the most powerful choices. But they chose wrongly, and soon we were no longer capable of communicating with the humans. As humanity grew ever more greedy, they began stealing our kills and then, finally, our young. That was the most unforgivable act of all…" she broke off. "And so we left the humans to their own brutality. However, not all of us left. There were some of our kind who had grown tame and thought they could teach humans the spirit of the forest again. Undoubtedly they did not succeed, for humans only grew worse. But as they tried to change their masters, our brothers and sisters began to change themselves. They wore different pelts, their bodies changed shape…they became dogs."

Rabbit's mouth was hanging open. Hollyleaf merely shook her head and then thought of something. "Where did cats come from, Matilda?" she asked curiously.  
>"That I do not know. None of our stories ever mention cats, so I must believe that cats came after the war between man and wolf." She kept her eyes fixed ahead as she asked: "Little one, what do cats believe in?"<br>Hollyleaf looked at the wolf, startled at the question. "We…many of us, Rabbit's Tribe and my Clans, we believe that when we die our spirits go to the stars and watch over us. They form a Clan-or Tribe- of their own, and speak to us through dreams."  
>"And are your ancestors all-knowing?"<p>

"I don't know. I've never seen them. But I'm not sure if I even believe in them now. What do wolves believe in?"  
>"Our faith is not so complicated. Wolves believe in the spirit of the pack foremost, but when we die our souls travel inwards, not upwards. We do not see these stars as well as you do, so we travel into the centre of the world, a great churning ball of flame made up of every wolf spirit. Whenever a new cub is born, one of these spirits flies to its body. The wolf-fire is supposed to know everything that every wolf has ever learned, but it does not share its knowledge with us."<br>Hollyleaf blinked. "That seems…odd." She winced, but Matilda did not seem to take offense.  
>"There are stranger beliefs. Deer believe in only one entity, a great all-knowing stag that watches from above. And owls place their faith in the fact that certain laws guard our world. They have no afterlife, and they say that if there are gods, then it is not their place to know them." Her shoulders straightened. "Come. It will be dark soon and I wish to find a place to rest."<br>Hollyleaf nodded and followed, glancing at Rabbit, who flattened his ears at her and ran to the wolf's shoulder. She sighed.

The eagle could have perhaps watched all this and understood something of what they were saying, but as the blue sky turned into the curtains of dusk and then into midnight, he would have needed to change his shape and become an owl to see what happened next. And this owl, whose kind had understood the laws of physics and astronomy long before humans could even form notions about it, would have settled into the trees and watched as Hollyleaf, almost invisible in the shadows, padded over to her sooty scrape in the earth. She had been fruitlessly searching for food and returned with an empty belly.  
>She stopped. The whole world seemed barren and silent, silent in a way that sent chills up her spine. Glancing around, she realized why she felt uneasy. Both Rabbit and Matilda were gone.<br>Slowly the black she-cat stepped forwards and caught sight of a silver glittering among the dead husks of trees. Hollyleaf padded over to her.  
>The wolf's fur was coated with dark liquid, the cat-claw moon glinting off her damp muzzle. She turned to meet Hollyleaf's gaze with her cold, cold eyes.<br>"Hollyleaf. Go."

The she-cat took a few steps away, wondering if this really was the same animal who she had calmly discussed religion with earlier. "Matilda, Rabbit's missing."  
>The wolf made a deep noise in her throat, and all of a sudden she did not seem able to hold Hollyleaf's gaze.<br>"The little one was unnecessary, Hollyleaf, and I was very hungry."  
>Hollyleaf backed up further. "And me? Am I unnecessary?"<br>"You will show me where the Clans are. Go, Hollyleaf, for I still need food. Tomorrow we will leave this dead place and return to green lands, even if it means we delay in reaching the lake. I will hunt and prepare myself."  
>Hollyleaf could have done anything then. Ran away as far as she could and see how far she got before the wolf hunted her down. Attacked her and end up like her dead mate. It would be what was right. What her brothers would have done.<p>

She dipped her head once, and returned to her filthy, cold nest, and curled up, knowing full well that she would not sleep that night.

The next sun when they awoke Hollyleaf made some sort of pretence of searching for Rabbit, but she knew perfectly well where he was. Stoneteller's vision, the reason why he had been sent from the Tribe to follow the Clan cats, had come true at last.


	19. Chapter 18: The Laughing Fiend

Breezepelt stood on the crest of the moorland hill, the wind blowing through his fur as his claws dug into the dry crumbling earth.  
>In the suns that had past the world had grown steadily warmer; the rains were, for the second newleaf in a row, late. It was now hot enough that if a dormant creature had climbed from their burrow they could be forgiven for assuming they had slept three moons later than usual and emerged in greenleaf. Elsewhere in the world sheets of half-frozen seawater were cascading from melting slopes as great white bears watched through despairing eyes. But here, the sun was merely hot enough to make the black warrior uncomfortable as his gaze, amber like a fox's fur, scanned the rolling plains of heather.<p>

For a moment there was the slightest touch of regret in Breezepelt's face as he stared across the horizon, remembering the carefree days when he frolicked in the fields with Heathertail and Harespring; when nobody looked at him oddly, when the only scoldings he received were for things he'd actually done wrong. True, he had not been a perfect apprentice. But he was strong and fast and passionate; Whitetail had seen that and treated him with patience. His father, on the other hand, was not.

Crowfeather was dead now. Barely two suns previously the moon had grown from a cat's claw to an open eye and the golden ThunderClan warrior Thornclaw had listed sadly the names of the lost. Unlike the other cats, who had thrown themselves to the ground and yowled to StarClan, Breezepelt had been consumed by conflicting emotions. Relief that Firestar had kept his promise and nothing had been said of Sorreltail's murder. Satisfaction that, at long last, Lionblaze was out of his fur. Amusement at the way Firestar struggled to contain his stutter at the Gathering. Perhaps even grief for the father that he had loved up until a few seasons previously when all the lies were washed from the Clans like-  
><em>Don't think it-<em>

-like Sorreltail's blood from his fur._  
>No, it wasn't my fault she was there! It's all her fault! Who's stupid enough to go wandering around by herself before dawn?<br>You just keep telling yourself that, _sneered a sardonic voice in his head. _Keep saying that, and who knows? One day you might believe it.  
><em>Although Breezepelt would never know it, he had so much more in common with his lonely sister than black fur. Both of them were brave, intelligent, ambitious, and proud. Both had been so completely sure of their place in the world that they had never comprehended anything different.  
>But when the truth, with gleaming fangs and shadow-hued fur, crept out of its den of nightmares to whisper madness into their ears, that was when their differences showed.<p>

Hollyleaf had turned her rage and terror inwards and shattered her mind, which was probably the best thing that could have been done; the damage she caused to the Clans was mostly superficial: the death of a cat who at his best was troublesome and at worst was savage. Most of the pain fled into her own soul, where it could be kept, tamed, and healed.  
>Breezepelt had sent his darkness into the world around him and had descended into a mixture of resentment and paranoia. Every cat that shot him a look was cursing him under their breath; the father who he used to worship was now a traitor and a fool; the apprentices were suddenly fighting better than he did, and their mentors praised them more when he was around; even the kits were turning mocking eyes upon him.<p>

It should have not surprised anyone-certainly, Jayfeather and Firestar had not been startled, and Hollyleaf would have known the day Sorreltail died-that he had turned to blood to satisfy the last remaining attribute he had-ambition. Breezepelt was a warrior divided; half of him, the half that was still the brave and loyal warrior who longed to look upon the world with kinder eyes, was horrified at the evil he was sowing into the Clan roots. But the other half of him-the more insistent half- told him that there was no such thing as evil, only strength and weakness, and that to regain what he had lost he had to become stronger than those around him. It was this part of Breezepelt that gloried in the scarlet tide and seemed lost in a permanent bloodlust. Everything was either a victory or a loss-there was no in between.

It was this part of him that was standing on a hill not far from the RiverClan border, waiting for his deputy and grandmother, Ashfoot, to join him.  
>He knew he was making a mistake. That it was far too soon to make another kill now, so close to Sorreltail's death. Firestar would kill him the moment he heard. That even if he did manage to get away with it a second time that it was unlikely he would be made deputy; Onestar didn't even trust him enough to lead a hunting patrol, let alone the Clan. He knew all this, and he didn't care. He wanted the thrill of having power over life and death; he wanted to see the terror in the old she-cat's eyes before her soul was extinguished; he wanted to feel fearless and bold again and feel her flesh beneath his claws.<p>

The grey she-cat appeared before him, her tail flicking. "No sign of RiverClan where I was, Breezepelt," she informed him calmly.  
>Breezepelt held her gaze. "I found rabbit blood near me. Just at the bottom of this hill."<br>"Are you sure it wasn't one of our Clan?"  
>"It might have been, if our cats have suddenly developed an appetite for fish."<br>Ashfoot's eyes hardened. "Come on, then." She trotted down the slope, her muscles moving smoothly beneath her pelt. Breezepelt followed, his ears twitching with anticipation.  
>He heard the deputy's snarl of anger. "Look at that! Blood, I should think so! It's torn to pieces!"<br>Confused, the black warrior drew alongside her, and felt his stomach roll slightly.  
>If they had been in any other territory he would not have been able to identify the creature, which looked as though it had exploded in front of them.<p>

_A RiverClan cat actually was here? What luck!  
><em>"I didn't see the rabbit," he mewed hastily. "I was a little way away from here when I found some blood drops."_  
><em>"This was deliberate," said Ashfoot through gritted teeth. "Whoever did this wanted us to find it. Quickly, Breezepelt, we need to find Onestar. He'll organize a patrol." She turned her back on Breezepelt.  
>Her final mistake.<br>Almost against his will, the black tom sprang onto his grandmother, his weight crushing her to the ground. She let out a startled cry of shock. "Breezepelt! What are you-"  
><em>Stupid she-cat, you deserve to die if you talk rather than fight!<em>

She fought him desperately, but even when she saw his eyes and knew he was going to kill her she still softened her blows against him, keeping her claws away from his throat and face. Had she not done so there was every possibility of her victory; she was a skilled and mighty deputy and he was an inexperienced young cat. In the end, he wrenched her legs apart and sank his teeth down into the soft part of her throat, feeling the blood spurt into his mouth and his saliva awaken on his tongue. Her blood tasted thick and salty, but at the same time, strangely sweet.  
>Her bleeding head sunk back into the earth, her jaws still slightly open, and in her empty eyes remained a question: <em>Why, Breezepelt?<em>

_Because, Ashfoot, only the strongest must survive. And I am the strongest. _He lifted her body and began to drag it to the RiverClan border. Leave it by the rabbit. RiverClan would be blamed for everything. Not even Firestar could pin this on him.  
>He inflicted a few 'battle wounds' on her body, and turned away, already planning his return to camp. Get a thorn in his pad and say Ashfoot sent him back. Nobody would suspect anything until the sunhigh patrol.<br>Breezepelt was still running these thoughts through his head when a new scent entered his nose. One that was dark and feral and smelt of blood and violence.  
>Slowly, slowly, the fur on his neck standing on end, he rotated on his paws and looked into the face of a monster.<p>

The wolf's fur was almost coal-black in colour, and his eyes were the yellowish green of an infected wound. His teeth were gleaming white and as sharp as his old stone claws. Breezepelt took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. _This _was what killed the rabbit and left merely scraps behind. Blood still stained his muzzle from the kill.  
>The wolf spoke. "Well, little cat, what have you done?" He sounded amused.<br>The black warrior's eyes dropped to the scraps of the rabbit and then back to the wolf's face.  
>Chénmò grinned, a savage baring of his fangs. "Why did you kill the old one, little cat?"<br>"I'm not little," Breezepelt replied instantly, for it was the only thing he could think of to say.

Chénmò chuckled, and Breezepelt's spine prickled. "You had better run then, cat, for RiverClan warriors are heading this way and I do not think that you will be able to explain this to them easily."  
>"You're lying," began Breezepelt, but even as he spoke, the bushes rustled and a patrol of RiverClan cats emerged.<br>_Great StarClan! Mistystar!  
><em>Mistystar let out a deep, low growl as soon as she saw the wolf and dropped into a fighting crouch. Her patrol, eyes wide with horror and fear, did the same as Chénmò swivelled his head from Breezepelt to the new cats. Breezepelt took his chance.

"Mistystar, it killed Ashfoot! We were patrolling the border when it ran out of the bushes and slaughtered her!" His voice was cracking with terror; not all of it was an act.  
>Chénmò looked back to Breezepelt, and he began to laugh, deep within his throat. The Clan cats, unaccustomed to the sound, shrank back ever-so-slightly. Only Mistystar held her ground, and she began to step neatly around the wolf, crossing the WindClan border without a thought, until she stood directly in front of the wolf. Breezepelt held his breath, certain that the wolf would calmly tell Mistystar the truth. But Chénmò did not, merely looking back and forth from them and continuing to rumble inside himself.<p>

Now Mistystar spoke. "Wolf. Leave our territory now and we will let you live. You have one chance."  
>Chénmò stopped laughing, and held her icy gaze. For a moment-just a moment-a trace of confusion entered his eyes at the small she-cat who dared to threaten him in such a matter-of-fact tone. He bared his teeth and her and stepped forwards, preparing to slam her into the ground with a heavy paw.<p>

He never got the chance. Mistystar lunged forwards, her claws aiming directly for the one part of his body within reach that was not covered with fur-the small black nose. Her claws struck true and the wolf let out a howl of pain and fury as wolf's blood stained the earth for the first time in over a hundred years. Chénmò leaped back a pace or two, shaking his head to clear his face from blood, when Mistystar stalked inwards, every hair on her pelt standing on end to make her twice her normal size. The rest of her patrol had found their courage and were now forming an arch, rather like the shape that geese took when they flew, and Breezepelt thought there was something odd about it. It was almost like the RiverClan cats were trying to force him back-

Chénmò charged forwards, but the cat he was after swerved aside and had the gall to nip him on the inside of his paw before returning to her original position. Outmanoeuvred, and with no space to fight properly, the wolf retreated, his bulk backing further into the trees, searching for an open clearing where he could face the cats on his own terms.  
><em>SNAP.<em>

A Twoleg metal loop, used for catching foxes (and occasionally, cats) had crunched around his left hind leg, knocking him to the floor and forcing him to howl in pain. The cruel shining wire tightened every time he thrashed, and Mistystar watched his struggles through impassive eyes.  
>Once he finally lay still, the mighty RiverClan leader stepped forwards.<p>

"We warned you. Now, we'll just leave you here for the Twolegs. Who knows? Maybe they won't come and you'll starve to death. Anyone can hope." Turning away, she gestured for her patrol to follow her, and they did so, though not before aiming their own taunts at the captured wolf.

Breezepelt remained where he was, shivering with fear at his near-death experience. And as Chénmò lifted his head to meet his gaze, the black warrior shivered, for in the beast's eyes there was no longer any amusement; only hatred._  
><em>


	20. Chapter 19: Laryissa del Destino

**Apologies for late updating-I've been on holiday for the past two weeks. Back to regular updating now!**

If there was a person in the world-human or beast-who had the power to look upon all of history's dark events, it would be interesting to observe their catalysts; that is, the precise moment when the conflict becomes unavoidable. You might be surprised to learn that many wars, murders and other black splotches on the scroll of time were caused by relatively harmless situations in themselves. The mouse that decides to travel towards the oak tree is the catalyst to its own death as the owl swoops down from the sky upon silent wings. World War One would have been avoided entirely had a young man not been eating a sandwich when Franz Ferdinand drove past.

But the catalyst for what would be later remembered as the War of Fangs was an innocent young she-deer, a hind, who ignored the warnings of her herd and trotted into the mountains-wolf territory. Two wolves, whose packs were hostile towards one another, stumbled across her trail and began to fight in a battle that would result in the death of one and the serious injury of the other. The hind escaped unharmed. Her name was Meladi, and she appears once more in the War of Fangs. This is not that moment. This moment dictates the second catalyst of the War.

That night was considered to be one of the darkest days in the history of cats. All nights are dark days; but this night was marked by the promise of violence and the smell of war on the wind.  
>No cat actually saw what occurred in the shadowy forests of RiverClan territory, though one she-cat would hear about it from the participants involved, and many cats would shiver in their dens as the voices of wild hunters floated through the night.<p>

It began with a black wolf, a wolf whose feverish yellow eyes glinted with simmering rage and pain. A loop of shining wire was crushing his hind paw, and every time he tried to pull free the wire seemed to tighten further.  
>To distract himself from his agony, and to gain revenge on the she-cat who had tricked him using the only means he had at his disposal, he threw his muzzle through the cold stars and howled. There was nothing articulate or poetic about his song; just one word, repeated icily over and over again, to frighten the prey in the area and perhaps work upon the she-cat's mind.<p>

_Mistystar.  
>Mistystar.<br>_He called her name, again and again, nose glands straining to pick up the scent of her fear, wanting to sense her unease. But the RiverClan leader was strong-willed, and he knew that she would not fall to his words. Other cats might, though. Their minds were so weak and easy to break. He would enjoy whispering the truth of their pathetic lives when he had them between his paws.

His hatred had sustained him through the long nights and days. Hunger did not bother him; it would take much more than just a week without food to weaken a wolf. His thirst was becoming acute, though he could keep it at bay by licking the dew off nearby leaves. He could not sleep, could not groom himself, could do nothing but wait for his chance to come. And that was when his bloodlust kept him company. Day and night, Chénmò howled until his throat closed and became another source of pain. Then he would wait for it to pass before howling again.  
>The moon had risen quite high in the sky while the black wolf waited. And then: a miracle.<br>A new song, floating through the dark air, music to his scarred ears.  
><em>Who are you? Where are you?<em>

__A female, then, and judging by the deep tone of the howl, a large one. Probably an alpha. The idea that a pack might be nearby lent fresh strength to his paws.  
><em>I am Chénmò dan Kynren, once beta wolf of the Omagh Pack, <em>he replied. _What name may I give you?  
><em>There was a slight pause before a response.  
><em>…I am Laryissa del Destino, alpha wolf of the Destino Pack. Come to me.<br>I cannot, for I am bound.  
>Bound? By what, or whom?<br>_A spasm of rage worked its way through his body. _By cats.  
>Then you and I are packmates in suffering, Chénmò dan Kynren, for I too have a score to settle with the Clans.<em>

_I care nothing for the other Clans. But I will exterminate the river vermin myself.  
><em>A silver glittering marked the edge of his vision as the she-wolf approached him. Her bearing was neither hostile nor submissive.  
>"A Kynren wolf," Matilda said quietly. "Then I think you know all too well why these cats must be destroyed."<br>"Free me, del Destino, and I will tell you a story that you will hear nowhere else."  
>The alpha nodded, and she turned to the fox-trap.<br>The trap was set up quite simply. Two poles sat opposite each other and a shining wire ran between them. Underneath the wire straddled the metal noose which had captured her fellow wolf's paw. Calmly, she padded over to the wooden pole which had the loop attached to it and snapped the strand cleanly in her jaws. With a shudder of rage, Chénmò forced his paw out of the noose. Matilda watched him with penetrating eyes. "You have a tale for me?"

Chénmò ran his tongue several times across his injury before sitting down and speaking.  
>"She-wolf, you must know the bones of the story as well as anyone who has an ear for the delta wolves. Many, many seasons ago, not long after the Great Divide where humans and wolves turned on one another, there were many wolf packs. Human territory was small and isolated; there was plenty of space for us to raise our young and hunt prey without fear of danger…"<br>"…and fights between rivals were few and far between because wolf territories were so large that you could wander for a moon and not find the border. I know this."  
>Chénmò snarled. "You may be an alpha, she-wolf, but this is my story to tell and I would regard it a great kindness if you would remain silent while I speak." Her eyes glittered, but she inclined her head.<p>

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "The Kynren Pack of those days, my ancestors, lived in a particularly lush section of land surrounding a lake. _This _lake. All that you can see from here belonged to them. They were not a large pack, but they were devout followers of pack law. And they were happy. Even when the humans turned their backs on the ways of the wild and their greed for territory became an addiction, the Kynren Pack were not troubled; their lands remained untouched. Until the cats came.

"At first the Kynren wolves took no notice of them. They were small, stupid and insignificant. Cats were simply regarded as another kind of prey; one that was well worth the trouble of catching because the smell of their fear was so enticing. The wolves killed many of them, but however many were slaughtered, more came. They were like a plague of vermin, breeding no matter what. It still might not have been a problem because wolves and cats do not eat the same prey and rarely interact unless forced to by hunger or circumstance. But then…the cats found a weapon."  
>"A <em>weapon?<em> What was it?"

"No wolf alive could tell you that, Laryissa, because the survivors that fled this cursed soil never spoke of it. All they said was that the weapon was something that all feared, and none could stand against. The Kynren wolves fled. What happened then is another story."  
>For a while there was silence as both wolves digested this. Finally Matilda spoke. "Well, you may rest easy, Chénmò, for these cats will have no weapons against us. I do not think this group of cats are the same ones that drove your ancestors away."<br>"And how do you know that?"

"With me I have a she-cat who lived with them. She tells me that these Clans came from a forest over the mountains and came here only after humans destroyed their first home. I have seen them myself, and there is nothing to fear from them. They are harmless…to the cautious." Her eyes landed on the fox trap, and Chénmò gave a low growl. A cold silence descended between them once more, this time broken by Chénmò.

"Where to then, alpha Destino? I will join you in your hunt."  
>Matilda rose to her paws. "For now, come with me, and rest. I will need to get more information out of Hollyleaf before I make my plans."<br>"How do you know that the she-cat is not lying to you?"  
>"Her heart burns with the same vengeance as ours do. A warrior from here killed her mate. She will stand with us."<br>Chénmò considered this, then nodded. "Lead on, Laryissa."


	21. Chapter 20: We're Going Home

_Lionblaze was in a forest clearing. The night was pressing in on him, rendering the world so dark that he couldn't see more than a few fox-lengths in front of his face. Mist swathed the smooth tree-trunks, and his heartbeat thundered through his ears as he stood, alone and afraid, in that dark, dark world._

_Then suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the growing walls of blackness, and two shining balls of light sparkled before him. Eyes. They changed colour every second-blue, green, amber, yellow, grey, brown, hazel, and other colours for which he had no name.  
>"Who's there?" he called, his mew sounding pathetic and insignificant as it floated through that immense darkness. <em>

_There was an icy silence for a time, before the being spoke. Its voice was too ambiguous to identify the gender.  
>"We are those you have betrayed. Some of us were friends of yours. Others were foes. But most did not know you at all."<br>"Stop it," he cried desperately. "Kittish tricks. You can't scare me."  
>"Tricks?" echoed the voice, scorn rippling through it. "Are our lives tricks? Is our pain so trivial to you? Then watch well, warrior. For soon you will be fighting a darker battle than those of flesh and blood."<br>"Who are you?"_

_"Once we were like you, as ephemeral as butterflies. But we looked further, and we saw past violence. We are StarClan, Lionblaze. Fear us, for we come when you least expect it, and we are strongest when you are weakest. In the mist, in the dark, in your dreams…and in your nightmares."  
>"StarClan. No, no, you can't be. You're supposed to watch over me…"<em>

_"Little one," the spirits of StarClan called, their muzzle stretching to the empty darklands above, "how can the lost and dead safeguard the living? How can we free you when we are not free ourselves? How are we supposed to be benevolent towards cats, when so many of us have known nothing but their cruelty? Ask yourself, Lionblaze, why should the murdered guard a murderer?"  
>Suddenly, the spirit of all spirits disappeared, and the mist parted to reveal another scene. Blood was now staining his paws, and he was staring into the green eyes of a black she-cat.<em>

_"Keep your eyes wide open, Lionblaze, because one day, when you least expect me, I'll be there. I'll rip your guts out and leave your head to the crows. You'll never sleep peacefully again!" And she turned and ran for the safety of the trees, her shadowy shape vanishing into the green boughs.  
>If Lionblaze had been awake, he would have gone through the full circle of his memory and called her a coward. But the dream state is different from that of the waking one, and as he watched, he thought of the fire in her eyes and the fierceness in her voice, and remembered another scene, one in which an identical she-cat clawed a ShadowClan warrior beside him…<br>"Hollyleaf?" he called._

"Lionblaze." A soft mew rang across the clearing.  
>The great golden tom twitched his ears in frustration. Though no such ceremony had been officially performed, most of the new Clan of cats-SunClan-referred to him as Lionstar. Except, of course, Willowshine. For a moment he lay there, trying to wrap his head around the realism of his vision.<br>"Willowshine," he finally spoke. "I thought you were an image that jumped out of my mind."  
>The grey medicine cat sat down beside him. "A nightmare?" she said sympathetically.<br>Lionblaze winced. "A bit more than that. I was told it was a dream from StarClan." Willowshine's eyes widened, but she said nothing.

They lay in silence for a moment before Lionblaze spoke again. "Leaf was my sister, is that right?"  
>The she-cat stared at the mossy forest floor for a few heartbeats before lifting her eyes to meet his face. "Yes, Lionblaze. She was."<br>"Why didn't you tell me?"  
>"She asked me not to. She wondered if you would recognize her yourself. Why the sudden revelation now? Did your dream tell you?"<br>"Well, sort of. I had a vision of her, and it just…clicked."  
>Willowshine nodded and got to her paws again. "I wonder where she is." It was a rhetorical question. Willowshine had known the smell of Saffron's blood.<p>

"I don't know," said Lionblaze, avoiding her eyes. "Why did you wake me, anyway?"  
>"To tell you that the patrols found nothing."<br>Lionblaze let out a deep growl. "Curse that fire! If it hadn't been for that, we would have found the wolf long ago."  
>Willowshine remained silent. She was many things, but a fool was not one of them. She knew that they had been lucky to escape with their lives on the first meeting with the wolf.<br>Narrowing his eyes at the medicine cat, Lionblaze also got to his paws. "Right, that's it. Tell Tigerheart to muster the Clan. We're going home."  
>Willowshine's eyes shone. "Really? We are?"<p>

The great golden tom let out a grunt. "We've been wandering these woods for weeks now and so far all we've managed to track is prey. It must be a sign from StarClan. They want us home."  
>The medicine cat's whiskers twitched at the idea that Lionblaze knew anything about the will of StarClan. She was quite sure that it no longer mattered to StarClan what they did; they had failed in their task to guide the wolf. She herself had had no dreams from them since that hopeful time.<p>

But still, he was right about one thing. The wolf's scent was gone. With each day's failure, the chance of picking it up again faded even more. They had no idea which way it was heading or what its plans were. They were useless out here, while at home their Clans would need every pair of paws they got. Without saying another word, Willowshine padded over to Tigerheart.  
>Lionblaze ignored her. He had not missed the tiny smirk that had crossed her face at the mention of StarClan, but what would she know? She'd had no dreams. StarClan's river, he'd asked her often enough.<p>

He found his paws guiding him to the sentry post, where, without a word to Tawnypelt, who was sitting on guard, he gazed out unto the horizon. His real motives for returning home were more selfish. First and foremost, he needed to speak with Jayfeather, about his dreams and Hollyleaf. Secondly, perhaps another medicine cat would be able to heal his crippled leg. It only pained him when he did strenuous exercise for long periods of time, but his reactions in that

leg were slow and stiff. Although he could walk normally on it, running was an awkward venture.  
>"Vole for your thoughts," interrupted Tawnypelt, her green gaze cool as she observed him. Lionblaze tilted his head at her. Tawnypelt was the only other cat apart from Willowshine who did not truly believe in their cause. In part this was because she was a cynic to her core, and her faith in StarClan had been shaken several times with the death of her son and now her mate. She stayed here only because Tigerheart did, but the whole Clan knew she longed to return home to her other surviving kit. Lionblaze admired her strength, but wished she had a little more idealism. She was well-respected among all of SunClan and oftentimes the cats found more inspiration in her unfailing determination than all of Lionblaze's speeches.<br>"We're going back to the lake," he told her, hoping to get a reaction out of her. It was doomed to fail. A swift blink of emerald eyes, which then flicked back to the horizon.  
>"About time," was all she said.<p> 


	22. Chapter 21: Nature's Fury

"Hollyleaf," Matilda called, her silver bulk flashing as she weaved through the trees, "can you not walk faster?"  
>The black she-cat did not reply. She was in truth maintaining a quite respectable pace, but cats, unlike wolves, were not designed to cover long distances at speed. Wolves have a trotting gait that they can maintain for hours as the kilometres reeled beneath their paws. Cats walk. They have no other choice.<br>Ordinarily Matilda would match Hollyleaf's strides so that they would travel almost shoulder-to-shoulder, but in her impatience, she and her new wolf friend would trot some ways ahead before stopping to wait for her.

For once in her life Hollyleaf was glad to be half-WindClan. Her moorland blood gave her the speed to at least keep the wolves in her sight while her ThunderClan lineage enabled her to maintain it.  
>The other wolf, the one who had just joined them-Chénmò?-snapped his jaws at Hollyleaf every time she came close to him. Yet, strangely, she could not bring herself to fear him. Perhaps it was the amusing thought of him being strung up like a chicken by Mistystar that kept it at bay. She was intrigued, too, by the thought of a weapon, but had assured her wolf keepers that no such thing existed.<p>

They had been hunting through the thick forest for several suns, rebuilding their strength. Hollyleaf was fitter than she'd ever been in her life._ Decided to lose a little weight, Saffron, _she told the spirit of her dead mate. _The wolf diet. Run as fast as you can all day, then stuff yourself with deer at night. _  
>She did that often, now, talk to him as though he could hear her. She knew he couldn't, really, but the she-cat was lonely. Now that Matilda had another wolf to talk to, she barely interacted with Hollyleaf, and of course Chénmò only growled when she came close. Sometimes, Hollyleaf almost thought she didn't exist. She wondered if things had been better before Chénmò had joined them. At least Matilda had seemed a little less…cold.<p>

But the wolves needed her. It was the one thing that constantly grated on their nerves, shortened their tempers, and sharpened their hostility. If wolves had a weakness, it was their own impatience and lack of impulse control. They were worse than kits in that aspect. Hollyleaf had watched, half-amused, half-frightened, as Matilda had disembowelled a tree after missing a catch. Hollyleaf had spent most of that day plucking splinters out of the wolf's paws. She had begun to come to the conclusion that, aside from the possibility of regaining land that had once been theirs, the wolves didn't really know why they were going to attack the Clans.

Hollyleaf had no doubt that they would win. But she wished they would just _stop and think of a plan_ before charging in. The last time a wolf had fought cats on their home ground, he had nearly died. Clan warriors might be idiots, but Clan leaders generally weren't, and Mistystar least of all.  
>"<em>Hollyleaf!" <em>Matilda growled, scraping at the earth. "Is this it? The RiverClan territory?"  
>Hollyleaf craned her neck and peered forwards. The ground beneath her paws felt moist, and smelt of decay. The trees were mostly cypress and willow, trees that tended to need a lot of water. And even if all that hadn't been enough to tell her that they were near a river, the thick fishy smell of a cat cloyed the air. Hollyleaf wrinkled her nose. Ever since she had been spending so much time near the wolves, cats had begun to smell increasingly strange to her.<p>

"Yes, this is their territory," she replied to the she-wolf.  
>Matilda took a step back. "Then lead. You know the way to the camp."<br>Hollyleaf wondered if she should point out that she'd only been to the camp once, and not from this direction, and then decided against it. If they thought she was lost, they'd eat her. And she didn't want to die just yet. Not while Lionblaze was still breathing.

Sidling past the wolves to take the front, Hollyleaf glanced up at a break between the trees. The sky was swamped with gigantic storm clouds, blue-black in colour. Were the rains coming at last? A rumble shuddered through the trees, as if in response.  
>"Scared of a little thunder, small one?" mocked Chénmò. Hollyleaf ignored him and padded into the river woods, her heart beginning to beat faster. In truth, she <em>did <em>fear storms, and the memories they brought with them. It had been during a storm that she had learned the truth about her past.  
>But she would rather die-and it would probably be arranged for her-than admit it to the brute padding behind her.<p>

Hollyleaf hoped he would die. He and Lionblaze deserved each other.  
>Fortunately, her memory was somewhat better than she had believed, and before too long was recognizing landmarks. Thunder continued to boom, and the air was hot and sticky. Her black fur prickled with static and itched almost unbearably, while her paws were slippery with sweat. The wolves behind her were in no better shape.<br>Finally, with vast relief, she dipped her paws in the stream that guarded the RiverClan camp, which was an island in the middle. She submerged herself several times in the cool, muddy water, trying to wash clean the scent of wolf from her pelt. Once she felt refreshed, she noted how low the water was, and again wondered if the storm above her head would bring the rain that the Clans so desperately needed.

"There," she told the wolves, keeping her green eyes fixed on the waving reeds. "RiverClan camp is just on that island."  
>Matilda began to paw at the ground again. "Then it begins. I will lead. Hollyleaf, stay at the rear, and do not get in our way."<br>Chénmò bared his teeth at Hollyleaf in a savage grin. Instead of stepping away from him, as she usually did, the she-cat flattened her ears at him and narrowed her eyes to slits, holding her tail high. In wolf body-language, it was an aggressive move, but not a hostile one. It meant _I follow the alphas and the alphas alone, and you are not they. Do not presume to give me orders.  
><em>For a moment she had the satisfaction of catching him off guard; then he shrugged his massive shoulders, and followed Matilda across the river.

Hollyleaf stepped neatly behind him, feeling somewhat pleased with herself. She had picked up the body-language from watching the wolves, and had been waiting for a moment like this to use it.  
>But all satisfaction faded from her instantly as Matilda stopped and they beheld the RiverClan camp.<br>It was a peaceful enough scene, not a cat in sight, for they were all taking refuge from the relentless heat in their dens. Without warning, Hollyleaf thought uneasily of little Rabbit, hiding in the prison den, and wondered whether dens really offered any sort of protection at all.

Matilda suddenly let out a bark of laughter as she padded towards an immobile black shape, and the she-cat realised that the camp had not been deserted after all. Reedwhisker, one-time proud deputy of RiverClan, now a cripple with a shattered mind, was hunched over in the centre of the island, his amber eyes blank and unseeing. Matilda towered over him, and he seemed pathetic and small.  
>"I remember you," she said coldly. "You were the one that lead the group of cats to capture me. You were so certain it would be a simple task…" she paused, just for a moment. "You were wrong."<br>And at last this seemed to spark a reaction from the injured warrior, for he lifted his head to meet her golden eyes, and something stirred within them.

"_Wolf!"_ he yowled to the deepening sky, and then three things happened at the same time.  
>One, Reedwhisker was killed, as Matilda's jaws cleaved his neck into pieces.<br>Two, a blue-grey she-cat stepped out of her den, her bright eyes made dull by horror and fear.  
>Three, a triumphant yowl of amazed disbelief arced through the air as Lionblaze fixed his gaze on the three of them. "You came <em>here<em>?" he demanded, as though scarcely able to believe his luck. "Out of all the places in the WORLD to go, you came _back?"  
><em>Matilda let out a snarl of rage as she leaped at him, but Lionblaze ducked nimbly under her paws, yowling for both Clans to attack. Perhaps something in his courage inspired them, for even queens and elders charged out of their dens in a massive tidal wave of cats. Hollyleaf scrambled aside as the warriors swarmed past her, her eyes roving the battlefield as she searched for one particular golden pelt.

There-his claws raking Chénmò's muzzle, who let out a howl of anger and snapped his jaws through his shoulder. Despite the blood that welled up, Lionblaze let out a screeching laugh, and Hollyleaf wondered if her brother had gone truly mad at last.  
>Mistystar was also hurt, but her claws and teeth flashed in the unbearably sticky air as she duelled with Matilda, who at last thrust her away with massive paws before looking for an easier target. Cat bodies were beginning to litter the clearing, but things weren't going all the wolves' way. Chénmò had lost an eye, but whether it was from Lionblaze or another cat's lucky blow Hollyleaf had no idea. The tip of Matilda's tail was missing, and blood stained her flanks from other wounds. Despite herself, Hollyleaf wondered-<em>is it possible that the cats can win?<em>

__Time seemed to blur as the battle grew ever more fierce, and Hollyleaf's memories began to merge and overlap. She thought she saw Mistystar lose a life, lying motionlessly for several minutes before leaping to her paws again, just as she thought she saw Chénmò collapse briefly under the pain and blood loss of his wounds, before tearing the cat who had attacked him to shreds. The air reeked of storm, blood, sweat, wolf, terror.  
>At last Hollyleaf had seen enough. She no longer knew who would win that fight, but she knew that she wanted no part of it. She had not seen Lionblaze for what seemed like hours, so perhaps he was dead. She turned away from the endless bloodshed, only to come face-to-face with him. A shiver ran down her spine. How long had he been watching her while his Clan died around him? Did nothing matter to him but vengeance and power? Oddly she remembered something that Firestar had told her, some seasons ago, when she'd asked him about Tigerstar.<p>

_Stars may fall, but in the end, Hollyleaf, nothing is truly forgotten. There are some emotions that cling to the earth too bitterly to not leave a mark. Happiness and sadness depart this world, but hatred alone never dies.  
><em>It was true. Even after all these years, the wolves still hated the cats; the Clans still hated each other; the Dark Forest warriors still hated the living. How long would her hatred of Lionblaze last? she wondered. Would her kits, if she had any, and their kits, look upon him with the same burning, destructive rage?

"Running away again, Hollyleaf?" he croaked, and she shuddered to look upon his wild eyes. "It's disappointing. I expected better from you."  
>"A wise warrior always knows when to flee a battle," she responded curtly, taking refuge in her sharp tongue.<br>Her brother leaned towards her. "But this is not that time, Hollyleaf! We're winning, or have you not realised yet?"  
>Hollyleaf glanced over her shoulder. "I fail to see your victory, Lionblaze. All I see are mounds of dead cats. Some of them your own."<br>The golden tabby tom began to laugh again, his manic howls echoing as suddenly, with a roar of thunder, a bright fork of lighting struck tree barely a hundred feet from them.

"Poor naïve Hollyleaf," he said. "Did you think that the wolves ever had a chance of winning? You were a medicine cat once, sister. So tell me-if you were facing a monster that could kill you easily, how would you bring it down?"  
>Another memory flashed into Hollyleaf's eyes. A pile of red yew, which some called night-seeds and others deathberries, hidden in the combs of ThunderClan's walls, baited with a mouse. A snake, the murderer of Honeyfern, glided silently up to it and swallowed…<br>"_Poison,"_ she breathed softly.  
>"Exactly so. All we needed was bait, bait that no wolf could resist. Us. Every time one of your beast friends takes a bite out of a Clan cat, their death creeps a little closer. And if some of us have to die to bring them down, well…" he shrugged his shoulders. "They will be honoured in the highest halls of StarClan."<p>

"You're mad, Lionblaze," she told her brother. "You'll all die."  
>The golden tabby tom leaned forwards, as though hoping she would say that. "Ah, no, you see, Hollyleaf, we won't. Because," he said, raising his voice as another bellow raked the air, "it doesn't hurt <em>cats."<br>_And then, as though signalling its agreement with Lionblaze's words, the storm shattered. Torrential rain poured out of the sky, so large and so fast as to sting the skin of those it touched. Lightning and thunder danced in a brutal display of power as Mistystar called for the retreat. With a mocking smile, barely visible in the rain, Lionblaze slinked away.

Realising that he only would have told her if he was vitally certain the wolves would die, Hollyleaf leaped into the clearing. "Matilda! Don't touch those carcasses-they're poisoned!"  
>Chénmò let out a bellow of pain and fell to the ground. "My blood! It feels…burning!"<br>_Good, _she thought savagely, and turned to Matilda. "How many times did you bite a cat?"  
>"I know not. Many."<br>"As many as him?"  
>"Far, far less."<p>

"Then you've still got a chance! We can get out of here and-" she paused. For, invisible in the roaring rain, Willowshine watched her. Only her eyes, glowing like two tiny lights, pierced the curtain of rain.  
>"Willowshine," whispered Hollyleaf. "Tell me. How is this cured?"<br>Willowshine stared at her. "So you did join them. Why?"  
>Hollyleaf closed her eyes briefly, and for a moment a tidal wave of shame swamped her. "Lionblaze killed Saffron. I want him dead."<br>"So you start a war between cats and wolves."  
>"I didn't start it! He did! He's the one that told her about the herbs!"<br>Willowshine said nothing. Hollyleaf leaned in closer.

"Willowshine, please. You know this isn't right. If Matilda dies, then Lionblaze will be a hero. Do you want a cat like him to be worshipped? He already thinks he's a Clan leader! When will he stop?"  
>The young medicine cat's tail dropped in thought.<br>"You have Chénmò," mewed the black she-cat. "Littlecloud's vision didn't say that Matilda was specifically the wolf required for the sacrifice. It just said _a _wolf. Willowshine, what if all this was our ancestors' plan? They made us fetch the wolf. They stopped the Tribe of Rushing Water from killing her. They sent Rabbit…" her voice broke for a moment.  
>Willowshine lifted her head to meet her old friend's eyes. Then, almost imperceptible under the roaring wind, she heard a whisper.<p>

_Charcoal._


	23. Chapter 22: The Cost of Victory

It was nearly a sun later when a ThunderClan patrol found Mistystar, exhausted and bloodstained, crouching on their territory border.  
>Since the storm had broken rain had fallen in a continuous curtain. The streams were close to breaking their banks and the very air seemed to be becoming mildewy. It was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you, and being dry was a dim memory. It seemed as though now that nature had broken the barriers between leaf-bare and newleaf, she was determined to keep things that way.<p>

But there were worse things out in the world than rain, and for the past sun most cats had been huddling in their dens, trying to close their ears against the horrific sounds of dying cats and the even more spine-chilling screams of some giant animal. And just when they had thought it was safe to leave their dens, one final howl of pain had shuddered through the rain-slicked air before the forest fell truly silent, except for the soft drumming of water.  
>With none of their usual hostility, the ThunderClan cats escorted the broken RiverClan leader to their camp, knowing that there could be only one reason for her condition and that she was undoubtedly here to tell them what it was.<p>

But before they could reach it the warriors caught sight of Firestar himself, crouching barely more than a few feet away from the cliff edge. At any other time would be thick with brambles that the Clan cats had constructed, but the constant rain had washed them away.  
>Mistystar staggered forwards to meet the leader, and Firestar shooed his warriors away with a flick of his tail. These days, he spoke less and less, for the very act of talking seemed to drain all of his energy. As a surprising, but cruel, side effect of his degenerative disease, his stutter had faded completely, though he rarely had the concentration to focus on a sentence anymore.<p>

There was a strange congruency between the two cats; both had once been mighty warriors, but were now reduced to cold shells of their former power. They felt strangely disconnected from the real world, as though their spirits were already on their way to StarClan and were connected to their flesh by the thinnest of cords. The only difference between them was that Mistystar stood a chance of recovery; Firestar did not.  
>The orange tom pushed his head closer to hers, examining her injuries. Finally he spoke in a distant tone of voice, "Your wounds are infected. Where is your medicine cat?"<p>

Mistystar pulled back from him. "My pain is not your affair. As it is, there are no herbs to treat them. Mothwing's stocks were running short in the beginning; the drought had killed most of the herbs she needed. Then the wolves came and destroyed our camp, so now we have almost nothing. What we do have, we save for the queens, though we doubt any of their kits will survive. I deserve herbs least of all-I have lives to spare."  
>"Wolves?" said Firestar, as though the topic barely interested him.<br>"Yes, Firestar, wolves. That is why I am here. To warn you. They will return."  
>"You fought them off. So can we."<p>

Mistystar shook her head in bitter frustration. "No Clan could stand against them. This was not a pack, Firestar, these were two wolves. We won only because of poison and sacrifice. As it stands, nearly half my Clan is dead and the rest of us are all injured. More will die."  
>"What is it you want, Mistystar? I have no herbs to give you. Ours are gone, too."<br>The grey she-cat stared hard at the ThunderClan leader, and, for a moment, some force seemed to strengthen her and she raised her head. "I ask nothing from you, Firestar. I came to warn you, and that is done. If you are ungrateful, so be it. The wolves are welcome to those without sense."  
>Firestar turned his head away. "Where are the wolves now?"<p>

"Both dead, we think-or hope. One vanished into the trees, along with your granddaughter."  
>For the first time this seemed to get a reaction out of Firestar. "Hollyleaf?" he said. "But she's dead."<br>"No, she is not, but she will be if any of my warriors see her again. She led them here, Firestar. To RiverClan. She is a traitor to cats everywhere."  
>"Are you sure you are not mistaken? Things happen in fights. Fear, exhaustion, blows to the head…"<br>"I trust my eyes and that of my medicine cat. Hollyleaf is alive and healthy."  
>"And Hollyleaf fled with the wolf?"<p>

"Yes. Where, I don't know. We could spare no cats to track them and it was unlikely they'd pick up a trail with the rain in any case. But the wolf should die."  
>"And the other?"<br>Mistystar's eyes gleamed. "We sacrificed him to StarClan this morning. Littlecloud's prophecy was fulfilled after all. Perhaps you heard it?"  
>"I can barely hear the rain on my ears anymore, Mistystar," Firestar replied. He cast his eyes towards the hollow and was silent for a moment. "They say that in StarClan a warrior is restored to the time when he was happiest."<br>"With my own experiences, I would say that is true." Mistystar said, wondering where he was going with this.

"I don't remember when I was happy, Mistystar. I liked being leader, but there was too much. Every day there was a new crisis requiring my decisions, and I made the wrong ones far too often. When I was a deputy, Bluestar was as crippled as a kit. When I was a warrior, there was Tigerstar." He sighed. "I think the only time I was truly glad just to be alive was when I was an apprentice. But I don't want to be that, either."  
>Still not quite understanding his point, and remembering all too well what happened last time Firestar went into an odd spiel, Mistystar said, "I don't think that StarClan takes that into account. I have seen kits become warriors without ever experiencing that in their lives. But why are you so curious? You seem better."<p>

"Better!" rasped the flame-coloured tom. "If I am better, then this is the sunniest day in greenleaf. I am turning into a shadow, Mistystar. Some days I forget who I am. Were it not for Sandstorm, I would have faded away long ago. But she reminds me, each and every day, that my Clan needs me."  
>"She is a mate that any tom would be privileged to have," replied Mistystar politely.<br>"But I disagree," he said, as though she had not spoken. "I don't think this world needs me at all anymore. My warriors act as though I am already dead. I am waiting for them to hold a vigil," he mewed, his voice grim with black humour. "And if what you say is true, then there are dark days to come indeed. Days that will require more decisions. Decisions from me! A cat who doesn't remember his own name at times!" He growled, turned around, and then paced back and forth on the edge of the cliff. Mistystar kept one eye on the precipice while steadily stepping away.  
>Suddenly Firestar stopped and smiled, an expression that showed broken and grey teeth. "Brambleclaw will make a very fine leader. As good as his father, but with rather a better heart. His decisions will be right."<p>

Perhaps a cat from StarClan had murmured into her ear, for the moment Firestar said _will make_ Mistystar knew what he was going to do. She stepped forwards, ignoring the pain in her limbs. "Firestar, enough. If you truly believe that you are worthless to the Clan, go to the Moonpool and make your case to StarClan. They will strip you of your name and elect Brambleclaw. But not this. It was not for this that you were made the hero of ThunderClan."  
>Firestar tilted his head, and for a moment Mistystar thought she might have gotten through to him. But the leader shook his head slightly. "The hero of ThunderClan," he muttered, and let out a bark of laughter. "Perhaps there was such a thing, but that cat wore another pelt." He took a step towards the edge of the cliff, and then another, until the tips of his toes brushed empty space. He glanced back at her.<p>

"Farewell, Mistystar. Perhaps we will meet in the meadows of StarClan."  
>"Firestar, don't-stop!"<br>But she was too late.  
>The last glimpse she had of the once-great ThunderClan leader was of his body, so soaked in the rain that it was dark brown rather than ginger, tumbling through drowning space before disappearing into the cloud of rain-mist. A series of sickening cracks, one after the other, echoed distantly through the air, before silence once again reigned the woods.<br>"_Firestar," _she wailed bitterly, her limbs frozen in horror.  
><em>No no no…<em>

__A howl pierced the gloom, and so eerily similar was it to the cry of the wolves that Mistystar's heart missed a beat. But this voice was of a cat's.  
>"Firestar! He's fallen from the cliff!" shrieked a cat.<br>"Can't have! Mistystar was with him…" said another.  
>And the idea jumped from cat to cat like a bolt of lightning.<br>When they came for her, first she tried to explain to them the truth, but their ears were deaf to her. Then she tried to fight them, but there was nothing, not an atom of strength in her limbs. Finally she just limply staggered between them as they herded her towards her fate, and it seemed as cold and unforgiving as the rain around them, the glint in the fangs of the wolf, and the spark of darkness in Firestar's eyes right before he leaped to his death on the rocks below.


	24. Epilogue: Waiting

_Patience serves as a protection against wrongs as fur does against cold. For if you grow thicker fur as the cold increases, it will have no power to hurt you. So in like manner you must grow in patience when you meet with great wrongs, and they will then be powerless to vex your mind.  
><em>The quote had been ringing in Hollyleaf's ears for some time now, though she was not sure who had told her it. All she really knew was that she was in a timeless period; nothing seemed to change, for the clouds above her head were too thick for the sun to pierce, leaving the whole forest trapped in an eternal twilight.  
>She was in the burned forest, and had been for some time—how long, it was beyond her means to know. Rain and mist swirled above her head, and her black fur blended in with the dreary landscape so that she appeared as nothing more than another shadow in a world of shadows.<br>Matilda was gone, and Hollyleaf did not know where she was or if the wolf was even still alive. They had stumbled through the storm together, Matilda's cries of pain growing louder as her blood burned, until they finally found the forest where Rabbit had died.  
>The great beast had ripped off several chunks of burnt wood, swallowed with difficulty, and then vanished into the grey gloom. Hollyleaf had not seen her since. Yet somehow she could not bring herself to leave the burned forest; perhaps it was simply the thought that if she left she would have nowhere else to go. She was a traitor to her own kind now, and had sealed the Clans' fate. Once upon a time that thought would have given her satisfaction. Now, it broke her heart, and she knew she did not deserve the company of other cats. She had chosen a path, and had travelled too far down it to turn back.<br>So she stayed, and she waited. She felt as though she could spend the rest of her life waiting for Matilda, if need be, though the future wasn't a clear idea in her head yet. There was only _right now_—now it was time to eat, and though the forest didn't have good hunting, she never starved, digging mice and rabbits out of their dens with an efficiency that would have surprised a badger…now it was time to sleep, in her bed of leafy ferns that made her bed…now it was time to drink from the puddles at her feet.  
>But then, one morning she opened her eyes and found that the rain had stopped. Blue sky shone from chinks in the clouds, and weak rays of sunlight illuminated a dripping forest, covered in tiny stalks of green where Nature had already begun reclaiming her own. Time had started again. Birds' voices sounded through the bare trees, and if she listened closely Hollyleaf could hear the soft splashing of little animals padding through the pools of water.<p>

For nearly the whole of that day Hollyleaf simply explored; gazing upon the world with fresh eyes, and marvelling in every small wonder that crossed her path. And as it so often happens in the world, the moment you stop waiting for a thing is precisely the moment when it decides to come to you.  
>The black she-cat was watching a slender frog catch mosquitoes, admiring its reflexes and speed, when she heard the distant howl of a voice echoing through the healing trees.<br>_You're just like your father…  
><em>Her father? Crowfeather was dead. She didn't have one.  
><em>Buried deep under the water…<br>_Yes, he would be, both Crowfeather and Squirrelflight, those dry and barren floodplains drenched in a tide of water. She could see it now, hopeful green stalks nodding their heads above the surge.  
><em>You're resting on your laurels<br>And stepping on my tail.  
><em>Who was that? Where were they? Hollyleaf climbed to her paws and set off through the woods, her ears leading her paws, as the voice grew louder and louder.  
><em>Whose side are you on?<br>_My side, she thought dryly. Whatever side will stop me from being eaten.  
>And in those thoughts Hollyleaf glimpsed a younger version of herself, a she-cat who merely blinked her lovely green eyes when the world raged at her, and her tail lifted slightly.<br>_What side is this anyway?  
><em>The black warrior turned her head this way and that, trying to find the source. Her eyes landed on a silver glittering at the edge of her vision, and deep within, another memory stirred.  
><em>Who downed your soaring cloud?<br>_And there she was, the wolf, the ultimate enemy of cats, the most beautiful and terrible beast in this land, healthy and sleek. Her eyes were as golden as the sun, her fur silver as the moon. Hollyleaf took several steps closer to the hunter, and as Laryissa del Destino raised her muzzle to the sky one last time, the she-cat realised it mattered not whether she lived or died, for in the great circle of life she was just as important and insignificant as the wolf before her.  
><em>Come, lay with me on the ground.<em>

_Thank you to all the people who took the time to review my first FanFiction.  
>The next story, Sanguine Skies, is the second in the War of Fangs trilogy.<br>Special thanks goes to Frostyshimmer._


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